Somewhere I can belong
by RohanVos
Summary: What has that crazy drow been up to that involves a massive summoning circle and an elaborate ceremony?
1. A beginning

Somewhere I can belong

Chapter 1

All things start out small

Disclaimer D & D is amazing though I own it not, some of the info are from campaigns I have been in other are figments of my imagination. Enjoy.

The cheer of the crowd could be heard well out into the street, the warmth of the inn was almost to strong of a temptation to resist…almost, glancing through a window for a moment, he caught a glimpse of those he knew inside, they were comrades and after the hell they had endured over the span of the last few days they deserved it. For some of us though there were no happy endings, at best our paths would continue and nothing could change that, not even the favor of a goddess. Pulling his cloak tighter he stepped past the open door and into the darkness. They were better off without him, he was not one of them, and did not belong among them. In the wild he would find peace again, away from those he was jealous of and would never be worthy of. Casting one last glance over his shoulder he saw them drinking and feasting, they belonged together and it was as simple as that.

Inside the _Blue Boar_, and amiss the regular crowd a group of adventurers drank and their fill, they had been together for a long time now, and between the four of them they had saved each other's life as many times as they had imperiled each others. There was a fifth chair next to the table that was empty and from time to time between their drinks they would glance over and look at with a quizzical look on their faces and watch the stairs or the door as if expecting someone.

Finally the largest of the group, a hulking barbarian, after lowering a tankard to join several other empty ones glanced over at the empty chair and spoke up, "I think that the bill should come out of Quin's portion of the treasury. I might he won't miss it and we can tell him that he paid for our meal. I bet he would like that. Right?

An elf wearing a breastplate emblazoned with a lightening bolt snapped her head up and soon the rest of the group were glaring at the barbarian. While wading through the blood of orcs and bugbears would not faze him in the least, the hard stares of his friends soon forced him to stare at his tankard collection. To his right another elf began to raise his hand and waved it menacingly until restrained by the heavily armored elf and spoke softly in common. "We've been through enough in the past few days, Quinn needs some time to deal with his loss, and if Quinn doesn't want to join us that's all right and he'll get his fair share of the treasure. Unless they're any objections?" Her hand had drifted to a long sword that was strapped to her thigh.

The final member of the group, she was not elf and not human but rather somewhere in between, she wore only simple clothes but a pair of bracers rested on her forearms. Shaking her head to remove the effects of the last mug and spoke slowly," I better now, I mean not remember that last remark in the morning because if I do, you are in for a world of hurt you stinking barbarian."

"Sorry guys it was just a joke." The mound of muscle mumbled out, "I didn't mean anything by it."

The tension was broken by a barmaid who walked over to their table to bring out their meals and gather the empty mugs and wine glasses, with the presence of such food the barbarian stopped his soul searching and dug in with both hands. The others after so many long days in the wild surviving on rations and water joined in, save they used knives and forks. The tension that had permeated the air was gone After several more plates were consumed and all could eat no more the barmaid returned once more, again the armored elf being the only member of the group who appeared sober enough to speak, paused and politely asked "How much was do we owe for such a fine meal?" Crystal's eyes never leaving the barbarian.

"Oh don't worry about it, everything was paid for."

The barmaids reply had startled the elf, pausing for a moment and with a glint of suspicion in her eyes she asked, "What do you mean everything was paid for? No wait was it paid for by a man, with brown hair and green eyes?"

"Why yes that was him, a real charmer, very polite."

At this the other elf spoke up, while a little slurred his voice had some power behind it, "Let me guess he kept saying thank you."

"That was him all right, do you know him? I mean you must have known him or he wouldn't have bought you dinner before he left."

"Left? What do you mean left?"

Turning back to the sober elf, "I just mean that since he had all the gear with him and what not, that he was either just arriving or leaving and he asked where the nearest port was and then said that there would be a group of adventures coming and that there meal was to be paid for. Did he do something wrong? I mean he seemed such a nice fellow, had a sad look in his eyes though, like he lost something."

The armored elf interrupted the barmaids tirade with a scream, "Herodotus smite some sense into the daft druids head."

"I'm going to head back over to the bar, now if you need anything else let me know all right." She heard more of the tirade that was now flowing from the elf's mouth and Molly was sure of one thing that elf was no paladin, and if she were she would have to spend the next few years in atonement for what was being said.

Turning to back to the trio sitting at the table she caught the other elf's slurred speech, "Damn it that Quinn has one problem and that's he's to damn nice."

The barbarian's head moved a few scant inches from the surface of the table, "You're right on that Gamgee, but where would the world be without nice guys like him to buy us drinks so we can get drunk." Brangar's face lit up with pride after uttering such a profound philosophical statement and his eyes promptly rolled over in their sockets and his head fall back to the table with a resounding clash, returned Brangar to oblivion.

Gamgee thought for a moment and turned to his heavily armored companion who was in the midst of screaming out obscenities in three different languages. Placing a hand on her shoulder to calm her down, Gamgee spoke softly, Quinn set us up, there is no way that we can go chasing after him in the condition we are in right now, Brangar is out of it, Janet isn't as bad but she isn't up for a pursuit.

At this, the remaining member of the group got up and made her way over to the pair of elves, "I'm all right, when we catch Quinn I'll break his legs with a ki strike so he won't run off again." Swaying back and forth she turned from the pair and blurted out, "Watch I'll demonstrate on this post." Janet had barely taken three steps before she swayed to far to he right and went crashing to the floor.

"She's a drunken monk all right." Sighed Gamgee as he bent over to lift up his comrade, turning to the irate paladin he said slowly, "Crystal we can not go after him now, we'll set out tomorrow, he couldn't have gotten far and he can take care of himself."

"You're right Gamgee, I'll help you with Janet, we'll leave Brangar here, his stench will keep any thieves away." The paladin thought to herself what made Quinn run off and all she was left with was questions and not answers.

As they carried/dragged Janet up to her room, Gamgee said bluntly, "Should we let him go Crystal, I mean the way he left, he wanted to go, no one forced him."

"I owe him dinner, and I don't like breaking my promises you know that Gamgee."

"You have a problem with breaking your word, that fits, but you don't have a problem with screaming obscenities? You are one messed up paladin old friend."

An hour or so had passed since Quinn had left the small town of Aaron's mill behind, by now hopefully they were all to drunk to set out after him, and with the time he had spent chatting with the horses, he knew he would have at least a days head start. Should be plenty of time to get myself lost in these woods to the point where even I won't be able to find myself. The wind was picking up and the rain would soon come, but the druid paid it no heed and walked further away from the light and into the darkness..

Far to the west another group was on the move, their war drums accompanied by cries of Grumush broke the silence of the night. The orcs were on the move this night and like a great beast of a past age they lurched slowly towards Aaron's Mill

Rohan's Rambling:

Well the first chapter is done and hopefully you've enjoyed it. Be cruel, be kind, but please review. Until then.


	2. A stalled departure for some and sanctua...

Somewhere I can belong

Chapter 2

A stalled departure for some and sanctuary for another

Disclaimer: D & D rules, some of the info are from campaigns I have been in other are figments of my imagination. Enjoy.

The wind and the rain would make his tracks all but impossible to follow, as he moved father into the wild the weight of the past few days rolled off him along with the raindrops. Here he would be at peace again and he could forget the past and hopefully be forgotten by those who knew him. Through the wind and the rain Quinn saw the coming dawn and with it knew that this day would be different from the last, and with the promise of a fresh start he quickened his pace to the forest and his new sanctuary.

Meanwhile the dawn also heralded the start of another day for a group of adventurers who were rapidly departing the _Blue Boar Inn_ for the stables to retrieve their horses and run down their missing companion. Following the lead of the elven paladin Crystal, they moved at a brisk pace to the stables only to find something that never expected to find. An irate stable hand was running around screaming wildly in some undecipherable language of high-pitched screams and yells. Janet could only take so much before executing a slide tackle through the muck bringing the short boy out of the slop and ceasing his ramblings.

Brangar stooped down and hoisted the boy to his feet, and turned him to face Crystal who asked calmly, "What is going on here?" Her shock was unnoticed as she realized the young boy was actually a Halfling.

"I've never seen anything like this in all the years I've worked here, the horse have gone crazy, they're lying down refusing to get up. A friend of mine, he cast a spell so I could talk to them to see if they were sick or something."

The paladin spoke up, "Well what's wrong with them?"

"They want a day off, say they want to rest and none of them are moving. The entire stable is like it. Thank the gods the horses don't talk with the cows or all hell would break loose."

Without a word Crystal turned and walked to her warhorse _Prancer_, determined to resolve the situation. She returned several minutes later visibly upset and was shaking with rage. "The horses," she began, "Are not moving till tomorrow. Any effort to force them to move will end with a swift kick to our backsides."

Brangar had long since dropped the Halfling and was conversing with the Halfling, "Horses talking to cows?"

"Yes you big pile of muscle, horses talking to cows. If that happens then the cows won't make milk, and no cheese can be made than it's the collapse of the economy and coupled with the loss of affordable transportation means the end of civilization as we know it."

Then with a serene look in his eyes and a smile on his face Brangar replied, "End of civilization not bad."

The Halfling looked at the barbarian and ran screaming off towards a small cabin in the distance."

The dejected looking barbarian turned to the rest of the group, "What did I say?"

Seeing Brangar out of it, and Crystal trembling with rage, Gamgee did the only thing he could, he started to laugh. "Quinn is absolutely brilliant, he has us stranded in this town while he makes his way into the wild."

"I don't care how bloody brilliant he is I am going to find Quinn drag him back here kicking and screaming no matter what it takes. We leave first thing in the morning, everyone back to the inn, and we'll get some rest and head out before first light." The group followed their irate leader back to the inn and soon had tracked down the same barmaid from the night before to arrange lodging for the night.

"Oh that was taken care of already by the same gentleman who paid for your meal last night. Now we still have some breakfast left if you're interested."

"Food good, free food better, we eat." Brangar's voice rang out and Molly soon scuttled back with a tray of meat and bread and the group sat a nearby table eating their fill.

Each member was in their own little world, Gamgee was still laughing every now and then at the "humor of the situation" as he called it. Brangar was busy trying to avoid biting into his own flesh as he devoured piece after piece of meat, often failing and then wincing in pain. Janet was eating meticulously small bits of her meal, alternating between her choice foods, and starring hopefully at the bar. Crystal stood in her way with a stern look on her face, hardly eating her meal she was focused on the task at hand, and how badly she could hurt Quinn without seriously maiming him. She would track him and bring him back.

Meanwhile a days hard journey had taken its toll on Quinn, he had put off rest for as long as possible but he could not postpone it any longer. Lack of sleep lead to delayed reactions and that lead to death. He knew that death was natural but that did not mean he did not do all that he could to postpone that from occurring. For all the aches from his errant flight it was worth it to be back in the wild. With that said Quinn began to search for a grove or cave that would offer him shelter, he was as safe in the wild as he was in any civilized area, he spat out at the mention of the word.

Quinn stopped his trek for a moment and forced all distractions from his mind and just listened to nature, he could hear a call from somewhere guiding him through the woods to a particular grove. There was a different feeling in the air, even though Quinn was just a novice druid, barely above an adept he could feel the raw power of this holy place. Lowering his head Quinn placed his hand on a smooth totem stone that marked the edge of the grove and asking for permission before entering the grove.

Rohan's Rambling:

Chapter 2 is done and the ground work is laid, next chapter will have my first attempt at an action sequence, Let me know what you think and until then.


	3. Defiant to the end

Somewhere I can belong

Chapter 3

Defiant to the end

Disclaimer: Same as always and then some, know this and be forewarned this is my first attempt at writing an action scene.

The sickening crunch that accompanied Quinn's food as he brought it down into the tall grass broke the serenity of the grove. Glancing to the left and the right he quickly realized he was in the midst of a massacre, bones and rusted armor poked out from the lush green grass. Tensing Quinn drew his scimitar and shield, he had no spells prepared, nudging a helmeted skull over he noticed quickly that it had at one time belonged to an orc, moving from skeleton to skeleton all were orcish…save for one. Two skeletons lay entwined as if in a lovers embrace, save one had two feet of a scimitar blade apparently stained black from blood stuck out of its back.

"Well where there's a blade there's a hand," sheathing his blade and dropping his shield Quinn pulled the skeleton off of the blade to find an elven skeleton underneath. "Whoever you were, you did not die easily." Several dark arrows were stuck into the rib cage and the collarbone had a large wedge gouged out of it. The elf's left hand clutched a broken chain, it was a symbol of Grumush, momentarily confused till in his minds eye Quinn saw the battle unfold, the elf had fallen back, firing arrows while retreating. Spells erupted from the cairn stones striking down many, and another orc fell as a badger lunged towards him and tore into his chest but the orcs kept moving forward regardless of their losses crying out to Grumush, casting the bow aside and drawing a scimitar and shifting a shield from its back to left hand the elf waited for the leading orc.

Dodging aside a thrust from the leading orc the elf twirled his scimitar above his head to give it more power and brought downward towards the orcs unguarded neck, black blood sprayed from the severed jugular as the leading orc fell. The loss of their comrade did not unnerve the band the least as they howled and closed, two more closed for combat and the elf had alternated between parries and stabs and slashes waiting for an opening and found it, drawing the orcs in close the elf slammed his shield into the left orcs chin, essentially giving the orc an uppercut that severed several veins and opening up his windpipe. The other orc followed up with an overhead swing howling. The elf swung her blade upward and bracing it with the now shield less left hand, momentarily stalling the orc's momentum, again the elf went to the orcs right side slicing down the orcs arms and gliding behind the orc to deliver a savage backhand strike that cut through flesh, muscle and gristle and bone severing its head.

The moment of victory was forgotten as several arrows whizzed past the elves barely missing their target. With a roar the next trio of orcs rushed to engage, heedless of the arrows being fired under their leaders direction. Sparring a glance at the unconscious orc and the shield the elf made a quick decision, turning to the down orc the elf delivered a coup de grace, but did not recover the shield, Instead the elf closed its eyes for a moment concentrating and then snapped his eyes open and held out her left hand as a flaming blade magically appeared in her left hand, and screaming out a battle cry the elf charged the coming orcs.

Quinn mind reeled trying to keep track of the elf's actions, but they were almost to fast and in most cases were to fast to follow. To the elf it was a dance striking high to the right side an orc then rolling its wrist to strike from behind an attempted block. The flaming blade seared flesh and started hair on fire, but for all the skill of the elf with its blades that did not stop arrows from striking and piercing the elf's hide armor.

The largest orc let out a guttural laugh seeing the arrows pierce the armor and strike the flesh of the elf, but the elf did not cry out in pain or even flinch. A sly grin appeared on her face, Quinn quickly realized what he had done; her skin was no longer pale and smooth but thick and rough like the skin of a tree. From then on the action just became to difficult to follow as the elf closed for combat and dispatched the last of the archers. All the while the largest orc's voice echoed out with laughter and shouts of. "Strike deep swing hard. Save a piece of the fairy for me."

Breathing hard the elf regarded her race enemy, he had not moved or helped his comrades in anyway, and unlike the rest of the invaders he stood and waited. He had unbuckled a massive battle axe and glared at her menacingly and spoke in guttural common, "Their lives meant nothing to me, they were means to end, they weakened you. You are no match for one who holds the blessing of Grumush."

She met his stare and spoke defiantly, "This grove in under my protection, and you shall share the same fate as the rest of those who violate its sanctity."

With that said they clashed, the battle raged through the grove, as the orc had called upon his god's aid and the one eyed beast had responded, he moved faster, struck harder, and never tired. Her flaming blade had long since vanished and she could not spare the time to call forth another one, she swore her arm was nearly broken after she had blocked one of the orc's powerful swings. The shock of the blow had thrown her back two faces and left her sprawled upon the ground, the roc followed through with his momentum and brought his axe swinging downward, only but rolling away at the last moment did she save herself from losing and arm. The blade still caught her arm and left a deep cut that bled freely. Rising form the near amputation the elf knew in her own heart that she would die here fighting this orc, her wounds and exhaustion were making it harder to ward off his overpowering attacks. "I will die here, but I will win this fight." She yelled defiantly in elvish and charged the orc as it was pulling its axe free from the ground.

The orc had no time to remove his axe, and instead drew a short sword and made ready with another overhand swing to slay the elf. As she neared the orc all she thought about was the charm of the orcs one-eyed bastard god, it was on a chain but would it be strong enough for her plan to work. Her strength was failing and this was her only and last chance to slay this beast. The two combatants closed distance within a few seconds, the elves blue hair billowing in the wind as slobber and spit flew from the orcs gaping maw. In that moment there was a similarity that bound the two, both were fully dedicated to killing the other, but only the elf was expecting to die.

The orcs blade came down slashing into the collarbone slicing through the armor and shattering bone, at the same time the elf's hand had lunged out grabbing the totem of Grumush and pulled the stinking orc towards her as she put the last of her strength into a wild stab. Pain screamed through the elf's body but she would not let go and the moment of unbalance followed by the sheer power of his overhead swing brought the orc careening forward and as the toppled on top of one another the scimitar broke through the orcs enchantments and dove deep in and out of the orcs midsection. He died with surprise on his face as if not sure why he had lost.

She could feel her life draining away, but she regretted nothing, she had fulfilled her duty and defended the grove to her last breath. Chuckling through the pain she added, "Thank your god for me for helping to kill you, you waste of life." With that said her vision clouded and she felt cold, but oddly at peace as she saw another elf approach her smiling before the darkness overcame her.

Rohan's ramblings:

I hope the action sequence was all right. I could picture it in my mind but had trouble putting it to pen, or in this case type. The moves I was attempting to describe are part of the sinawalli's and dequeradas styles I study in Inayan System of Escrima. It's a fun time and hopefully soon I'll be testing for my second level. Until then.


	4. A history lesson

Somewhere I can belong

Chapter 4b

A History lesson

The day had not gone well, again Quinn's planning had prevented her attempt at searching for him. Now Crystal was taking out her frustrations by screaming in her room, that Quinn had paid for. "He had turned her own horse against her. Quinn had convinced the mount of a paladin to disobey the paladin. How did he do it _Prancer_ was bonded to her body and soul and" her voice broke off for am0oment till she realized how he had done it, "Sugar cubes, _Prancer_ would do anything for sugar cubes." She had told Quinn that about her mount weeks ago. "Quinn bribed my horse, Gamgee he actually bribed my horse with sugar cubes."

The room other occupant was another elf who was methodically scanning a thick volume, who commented without looking up, "Yes Crystal I know what happened I was there when it happened."

"Before that Gamgee I was going to be content just going to track him down and talk to him." Her tone dropped several octaves before she resumed her tirade, "Oh now I'm going to drag him kicking and screaming out of whatever tree he as hiding under and back to the inn. Maybe I'll hamstring him, that way he won't be able to run away."

At that moment Gamgee stopped reading and looked at his friend, "Quinn is as he is, and he's a druid so that makes him even weirder." His tone became more sympathetic, "You and I both know that you couldn't have hurt him if you tried, he didn't mean to cause harm to any of us."

"Do you think we should let him go then Gamgee?"

"Of course not, he's my friend and I don't want him going off and getting himself killed anymore than the rest of you do, now if you'll keep your ranting a little quieter I'm trying to read up about this area."

Crystal glared at Gamgee with murder in her eyes, "You're reading a history book. We're you listening to anything at all what I was yelling about for the last few hours. I thought you came to listen to me?"

"Crystal please, you're ranting however loud it maybe is nothing compared to Brangar's snoring. I'm a wizard, I can multitask, and since I know what you're going to ask next I borrowed this book from an eloquent half-orc named Clovis this afternoon."

She stared at him, her mouth aghast before sputtering out, "An eloquent half orc? Gamgee what in the name of Heroninous does that mean?"

"Just what I said it does, we had a wonderful conversation over tea, we both share a passion for late classical elvish poetry and Halfling reggae lyre instrumentals. He told me much about the area and based on what he told I have narrowed down where our errant friend may have ran off too. Quinn has either ran off to a charming place called the Orc's Nest, or a scenic getaway called Black Tower Keep, or most likely I would say the woods to the northeast of here. The other two I counted out because I do not believe our friend has a death wish. Look I even drew a map based on descriptions of what I have read."

"You're good Gamgee very good."

"Well what can I say that hasn't already been said."

"What were those first two places you mentioned, that Black Tower and the Orc's Nest?"

Flipping through pages and glancing over his notes before beginning, "From what I can Black Tower Keep was a fortress built to keep the orcs out of the area, and it worked very well for over a century or two. The account is written in Dwarven and that's not one of my strong language, now if it were classical Elvish, or Aquatic then I could have made short work of it, but you know Dwarven better than I ever could." Gamgee spoke with a grin on his face.

Blushing Crystal fired back, "Gamgee we agreed not to speak about that ever again, an unless you want to try casting magic with broken fingers keep talking about relevant historical information."

"All right, all right settle down little miss paladin you're not being set off on crusade. Anyways the fortress was painted black for some reason, better night camouflage or what not. At the end though it was taken after a lengthy siege." Gamgee stopped and Fumbled through his notes for a moment, "Here we are, it was either a siege of three months or 3 years. Blah blah the defenders fought valiantly, but the hordes of orcs spilled over their ranks and the defenders fought to the last before being massacred save for a few who managed to escape to Aaron's Mill. From there it's the same old story the horde that united to take the fortress shattered and has been consumed by infighting ever since. Every once in a great while the orc clans unite for the odd raid on the town. The orcs can't muster the forces to storm the walls or build siege equipment so they come all the way down here and then run away."

"What about the Orc's Nest, and if it's some sort of Orcish mating ritual don't even waste my time."

"Okay Crystal first off who would even take the time to research orcish mating rights, let alone go through the psychological trauma of writing such a thing. It's a shrine to and I quote 'The dung blasted one-eyed mistake of divinity that the orcs call Grumush.' There's something about some dead druids, but unless a spirit has placed a geas Quinn I don't think he's at either of these places. I mean what are the odds of that happening? As I said before our best chance is the woods to the northeast"

Crystal rose up triumphantly, "We leave at first light and from there we go get Quinn from wherever he's hiding. Good job Gamgee I knew somehow you would find out where he ran off to."

Shrugging his shoulders Gamgee responded, "Ah, it's what I do, now based on that note, I am going to get some dinner and would you care to join me."

"Sure, just do me a favor old friend, make sure that the food isn't drugged, I wouldn't put it past Quinn to have left some sleeping draught for them to place in our food.'

Bowing regally Gamgee responded, "As the lady wishes so I will do."

"Stow the flattery, you're paying for dinner."

"I try to do a good deed and I get yelled at, for your information Crystal I was going to pay for dinner anyways. But I checked already and Quinn has it paid for already."

"Blast that druid, I'm going to kill him, no I'll wound him first. Why does he do this? It can't be a human trait cause Brangar sure as hell never pays for our meals, i've known druids that never did this thing before what is Quinn's problem. Even when he's not here his overly nice presence is still here."

Gamgee could only laugh as his friend resumed her screaming tirade as they made their way to the dining hall below.

Ramblings from Rohan:

Things are building up, I'm trying to keep chapters above 1000 words and if you think they should be longer let me know. Any comments concerns please let me know, reviews can only make me better.


	5. Novice & Mentor

Somewhere I can belong

Chapter 5

Novice & mentor

Thank you for reading, some of the following is real, only the names and places have changed. Well at least as role-playing can be, D & D does not belong to me.

How long he had been mesmerized by the image of the combat he could not tell, it had been the cawing of a raven that broken the trance and with it came a purpose that must be done. The dead must be honored and laid to rest with respect. The sun hung brightly in the sky beaming down into the grove and what he had not seen in the dawn was now laid bare, at the end of the grove past the cairn stones was a mammoth Rowan tree, but what was odd about it was a large opening as the trunk parted. The raven had returned and was cawing incessantly at the tree.

"Shelter, and supplies. Thank you." Lowering his head he entered into the crevice. What would have been an easier passage for the previous occupant was much more difficult for Quinn as he forced his way through the narrow passageway. While some light intruded into the opening, for the most part it was dark as night. Without pause he held out his hand and light burst from his hand illuminating the chamber. The chamber was far larger than it appeared and it was easily half as large as the grove. "So this is where you lived." tools and supplies were stored neatly and the underground chamber formed a near perfect dome as the roots from the Rowan and other trees had intertwined to both support the ceiling and keep loose soil from falling through.

Despite the natural wonder of the chamber, there was very little in the form of creature comforts. What may at one time have been a bed but was now a pile rotten timbers and furs. "Definitely a fixer upper but first things first." Grasping a shovel from amiss the tools he had an obligation to follow.

Several hours later the task of removing the orcs had been taken care off, he had taken their remains outside of the grove some distance away from the grove and had disposed of them in the proper manner as befitted those of the orcish race. He returned to the grove, and kneeling to pray asked permission of the grove to honor the druid that had fallen defending it. Rising in acknowledgement he began to chant in druidic, it was a death song and the notes were somber as they flowed forth. Images flashed through his minds eye of the elf and her tragic end, there was no sorrow for she had died defending a holy place of her goddess from those that would desecrate it.

By her side he buried the badger that had been her companion, at first Quinn had not see the skeleton of the magical creature. In between life and death it had burrowed its way into one of the orcs at the entrance of the grove. As he moved the shoveled dirt onto the grave and he made ready to thrust her scimitar into the ground as a marker. Though it hade laid in the ground for countless years, the blade was still as battle ready as though it had been forged yesterday, and shone with a strong aura While studying the blade, the same raven had directed him to the tree now perched itself on top of the blade as it lay on the ground and refused to move.

"She would want you to have It.," the raven croaked.

"But she is not here to give it to me so I shall leave it with her to mark her grave." Quinn replied not missing a beat in the conversation.

"Well you're honor bound to take up her place and you'll need that blade more than she will."

"I appreciate the offer but the blade is not mine and no matter how much it will benefit me I must leave it here."

"What if it were a gift, then young novice." A third voice offered, it was a rich sylvan voice that was as much a melody as a command. My bones have laid here for some years with the Orcish trash. I give it to you for services rendered."

He immediately bowed to the ground, "My lady I cannot."

"Do you mind your kneeling on top of me, it does makes it hard to talk."

Scampering away from the grave and muttering out apologies in Druidic, and Sylvan, "I am truly sorry my lady I did not know that I caused you discomfort."

"Are you just that dense, I'm joking with you. I'm dead, kneeling on my grave does not make it difficult for me to talk."

"Why do I always seem to have so much trouble with elves," he muttered in Dwarven.

"Hey I heard that, I might not what you said but I heard it. Druids do not speak Dwarven, there has never been a Dwarven druid..." the words came so fast that Quinn had lost the meaning but knew that she was ranting, and from past experiences he knew it was better to let an elf rant, especially if that elf was female, and even more so if said elf was now a spirit. The tirade continued for a few more moments before ending abruptly, "Are you listening to me novice?

"It's hard to listen when I can't see you." Quinn had slowly been backing away from the grave and was thinking that if he put enough rocks on the grave maybe that would quiet the spirit, but it would be of no help to him as a mist suddenly rose from the grave.

At first it was only a shapeless cloud with a familiar voice emanating from it, "Hold on a moment novice this should only take but a moment then you will know from whom you need to listen." It took a moment but then it slowly materialized into an ethereal moon elf, a very naked ethereal moon elf. Their gazes met for a moment, before the spirit muttered half hazardly, "Well this is awkward. Maintaining a physical shape is pretty easy to form but clothes requires a little more focus"

The speed at which Rohan had spun around to turn his back and muttering apologies to the naked moon elf caused the raven to fall from its perch upon the scimitar. It rolled back and forth on the ground cawing in laughter.

"All right my novice druid, now you and I are going to have a small chat about how future events will play out and what your role in those events will be. Now turn around and face me, it's as though you've never seen a naked woman before, there's not much difference between an elf and human save for the ears. You must have seen a naked female before I mean your race has to mate by what your fifth cycle to produce any heirs right."

Quinn just shook his head while still having his back tuned to the elf, "Muttering this is going to be one of those days."

"You haven't seen a naked woman before where are they raising druids now in some completely cloistered oak grove somewhere. Have you had the talk yet, because that is something I'm perfectly comfortable helping you with? We have some time before you will have time to rest so lets chat and tell me about yourself. "

Slowly the druid turned to face the spirit, who was now leaning against a smaller oak treeing having great joy passing her arm back and forth through the trunk. Quinn looked at the now clothed spirit and asked with a look of shock on his face, "Are all spirits like you."

With a grin that stretched from ear to ear she answered, "Just because I'm dead doesn't mean I can't enjoy life."

Ramblings from Rohan.

I had a lot of fun writing the dialogue but i've got a major case of writers block for names for the raven and the elf. If you have suggestions drop them in a review and thanks for reading and until then.


	6. Meanwhile back at the mill

Somewhere I can belong

Chapter 6

Meanwhile back at the Mill

The four adventurers once more made their way to the dining hall of the tavern, after their previous attempts to leave the town in pursuit of their errant druid had been less than successful, the were on edge. None more so than Gamgee who had been forced to room with Brangar whose snoring had caused more discomfort to the elven wizard than a close encounter with a Basilisk. Crystal was a close second, Janet had woken her up from a pleasant trance by conducting a bizarre series of exercises that were accompanied with the sounds of breaking cartilage and snapping bone. The whole incident was very unsettling to say the least. Quinn had been a mediating factor, something that Crystal had not realized for most of their last foray into the wild. After today though they would have him back willingly or not.

Instead of the usual crowd that the group had become accustomed to over the past several days, the dining hall was packed with people mingling and engaging in a fierce discussion. Several languages could easily be distinguished and all shared one common phrase, "Orcs on the move."

Brangar's face lit up with an almost childlike glee to it as he that certain phrase. Gamgee and Crystal at the mention of their race enemy immediately tried to listen on the conversations in hopes of learning more and Janet uttered a single word that refocused the entire group, "Quinn."

As the group moved through the swirling mass that had filled the dining they caught other bits and pieces of conversation.

"They've closed the gates. This will destroy our economic output for the next quarter or worse." A familiar looking Halfling stated to a group of fat merchants.

"We should just march up and knock that thrice blasted dark tower to dust." A human with a bastard sword strapped to his back called out. A chorus of, "Aye" greeted his words.

"It's only orcs. Their god has only one eye, why should we fear them?" a dwarf with fiery read hair bellowed.

By the time they had reached the door, they found it barred by two figures wearing full plate armor, one wore an eye patch over his left eye, while the other was missing his lower lip. In a booming voice one eye called for silence, when that failed he took out his war hammer and brought it smashing down on a large keg of ale. The barrel splintered and its contents poured out onto the floor, a dead silence soon filled the air and several patrons began to cry at the waste of ale, Janet among them was wailing the loudest and Brangar had to hold her back. "All able bodied persons, regardless of race, creed, or religion are to prepare to defend the city from hostile forces. The Orcs are coming and I want as many defenders on the wall as possible. Report to Gloin Ironbeard by the Gate of Moradin within the hour or be thrown into the dungeon. That is all."

"Well my comrades it looks like we've been drafted, I suppose I can offer my valuable consul to the Dwarven commander about how to fight a battle above ground." Gamgee stated smugly.

Crystal glared at her comrade with what the group commonly referred to as the its-better-to-have-your-head-cleaved-off-and-try-find-it-look.

The elven wizard shrank before Crystal's gaze, and it took Gamgee a moment to recover his voice before speaking, "All right lets just go see this Commander Ironbeard, Quinn is going to be on his own for the meanwhile. Besides its only orcs how bad could they be?"

Brangar echoed Gamgee's sentiments, "Kill orcs find Quinn. Easy as gutting a boar."

With Gamgee in the lead the group made their way through winding streets filled with refugees from the countryside. Carts overloaded with possessions blocked their progress and a trip that should only have taken a few minutes took almost an hour. By the time the group had reached the gate they had passed countless terrified commoners.

"We may not be scared but something has the entire countryside fleeing their homes for the city." Crystal noted.

Amiss the chaos of the milling crowd a short stocky dwarf with a silver almost white beard was standing on top of barrel shouting directions and directing traffic. The four made their way to the dwarf and soon as they were within earshot they heard the dwarf cursing up a storm and swearing oaths that would make anyone but a Dwarven cleric blush. "That sounds like our dwarf, Crystal you go first, dwarves like you." Gamgee stated.

"Grow up Gamgee are you still sore about Llumeria? No don't answer that I already know."

"What happened in Llumeria, Gamgee?" Janet asked with a quizzical look on her face.

He pulled his cloak tighter about him and tried to disappear into it, "Before your time, I'll you about it late when Crystal can't hear us."

Crystal had made her way towards the screaming dwarf as a wagon surged through the open gate, the harness came off and the horses charged through the throng scattering the crowd in their wake. The wagon veered off and collided with the pile of barrels flipping over and somersaulting before it came to a stop less than an inch from Gamgee. "Well that was unexpected." Gamgee managed to blurt out before collapsing from shock. He awoke a few moments later to see his vision blurred and the world spinning around him, Gamgee feared for a moment he had suffered a severe injury. In a moment he realized that it was only Brangar shaking him erratically trying to wake him.

"brang-ar-stop-shaakking-meee-thiisss-innnsttannt!"

Before Brangar could offer a reply another voice piped in, "Hey big boy stopping shaking the throw rug and help move this cart so we can close the doors before every Dark tower Orc gets in." A white bearded dwarf bellowed, Gamgee wasn't sure but it may have been Gloin. Brangar not understanding the severity of the situation continued to shake Gamgee and ignore the dwarf.

The dwarf jumped off of the barrel he gad been occupying and preceded to walk towards the barbarian and the throttled wizard, those that saw Gloin Ironbeard walking towards the two got out of his way, those that did not were promptly shoved out of his path by the fuming dwarf. The barbarian towered over the dwarf by at least three feet, but Gloin was not intimidated the least and decided to let his actions speak for himself as they always did. The barbarian saw him approaching and stopped shaking the outlandishly dressed elf as Gloin motioned for him to bend down so he could speak to the towering oaf.

Gloin waited till their eyes met and in that instant his right hand shot out and grabbed the barbarian's nose between his thumb and forefinger and then he twisted. The look of surprise on the barbarians face was worth it and Gloin preceded to lead the barbarian over to the overturned wagon and spoke very slowly with a near demonic glint in his eye and spittle flying from his moth. "Listen you poor excuse for a barbarian, I've known barbarians and you are not a barbarian. You are some longhaired imitation pretending to be a barbarian. From this day forward you will act like a barbarian and do so right now. Do I make myself clear to you barbarian trainee."

Brangar could only whimper in pain before screeching out, a pain wracked, "yes."

"Good know move this wagon se we can close this gate, "With that said Gloin released Brangar nose after twisting it back to its original position.

Brangar shook his head for a moment and after making sure to see his nose was still there he began to move the toppled wagon. Gloin seeing the relative ease that Brangar moved the wagon nodded his head in recognition. "You didn't pass out, there's hope for you yet barbarian trainee." Digging through the toppled goods, there underneath a bundle of cloth was the driver dead, Gloin had expected that the driver did not survive the crash, Looking at the way he died Gloin knew that driver was dead before his team arrived at the gate, there sticking out of his back were several dark feathered arrows. Pulling one out he noticed the craftsmanship that went into the arrow, and faintly caught the stench of several poisons. "Close the gates and bar them tight." He bellowed out to those working. He stroked his beard while turning the arrow over and over again, and then in an instant he snapped the arrow in half he tossed it aside, he didn't need to keep it, Gloin knew that in a short while he would be seeing more of those arrows than he ever wanted to.

"Commander Ironbeard, there's movement to the North, a lot of movement." One of the guards on the wall yelled out.

Gloin looked up at the sentry, she was another one of those damnable elves, had no weapon drawn and had been playing a lyre. Worse yet he knew this one and did not look forward to her answer of the question he had to ask. Gloin yelled out, "Friendly or unfriendly?"

"Well sir they look like orcs, they run like orcs, and if I listen carefully I car hear orcish, but there still might be some chance they are just a group of traveling bards like myself in search of perspective employment."

"Stow it Elindil, how long do we have."

"Half hour at most before the vanguard hits us, and after that who knows."

Inside Gloin felt the glee that came to all of Dwarven kind before fighting their ancient enemies, but that was quickly sobered by the faces of those under his command who would not see through this battle. "To the walls you swags I don't care if you believe in some nonviolent, noncomfrontive deity, cause those orcs don't." With those words said Gloin joined those at the battlement waiting for the coming horde, "Elindil know anything that could be considered music to help ease the situation."

Winking back at her old friend she answered, "I think I know something that'll work just right." With that said she unslung her lyre and began to skillfully strike the chords producing what even the most ardent hater of music would describe only as beautiful. A feeling of hope spread through those in earshot and they eagerly grasped their weapons in readiness.

Gloin raised the eyepiece and scanned the horizon for the coming horde, what he saw was far more troubling and suddenly he knew this was no ordinary raid. The orcs had deployed in ranks with a skirmishing line pressing ahead brandishing crossbows and just entering into vision stove groups of orcs all lead by a standard bearer, a red eye above a black tower. Gloin was alarmed at the sight of a single banner flying before, and as more and more orcs came into to view he saw trolls and orcs pulling massive machines that looked like siege equipment. His hand fell numbly to his side still clutching the eyepiece. He had seen something that he would never have thought possible, orcs unified under a single banner, siege equipment and trolls. Everything he could handle, but trolls were another thing entirely, even cut up they still wriggled, oh how he hated things that wriggled. Turning to his aide, a fellow Ironbeard and set him off to inform the other commanders of what they would face, and Gloin did the only thing he could do, he presented a strong face to those under his command and started yelling loud creative insults to the orcs.

"Further down the line, Gamgee, Crystal, Janet, and Brangar had found a position to defend and each was lost in their own thoughts. Their thoughts were a jumble as they worries about their friend Quinn, the horde of orcs rushing towards them like a wave, and one thought solely of what he would have for dinner tonight after killing a score of orcs.

Ramblings from Rohan:

Another chapter done, still can't think up of any decent names for a raven or the elf, so please feel free to drop any suggestions in your reviews.


	7. Sins of the Past

Somewhere I can belong

Chapter 7

Sins of the Past

Disclaimer: Once more Dungeons Dragons are not mine nor are any of the associated thingies that may find their way into this story. The characters are based on real imaginary characters, wow that's a contradiction in terms. Well enjoy the story and voice your concerns/comments please it'll make me happy regardless of what you type. Also any suggestions for names of the raven or the elf would be greatly appreciated

The time spent in the sacred glen were both a source of joy and discomfort at the same time; his mentor a moon elf who was now a spirit took great joy in his training as a druid. Nowhere was he safe from her rich sylvan accent ringing out with shouts of, "Novice, I have a little task for you." He cringed at the mere thought of that phrase. However, he was learning so much and even though his body and mind ached and at the end of each day, he was truly grateful, more so than words could express. If only she would stop waking him up every morning by creating water above his head.

Quinn had quickly fallen into a routine after his first morning in the grove, wake up soaking wet and screaming, dry off, pray, scimitar exercises both two handed and single handed, spell casting, lunch, trying to avoid his mentor as he raced through the woods, dinner, and lastly a tutorial time with his instructor or as she liked to call it, "Story time." If Quinn had not seen the vision of her cutting down over a dozen orcs than he would never have perceived her a threat, she was scatterbrained, too much of a jokester. But practicing the fighting forms that she demonstrated, Quinn knew that beneath the bubbly attitude was a dedicated heart, well there had been a heart, but the spirit was still there.

"In more ways than one." He chuckled, and then he noticed the ravens. They were not making any noise and that only meant something horrible was happening nearby, not breaking stride he sprinted through the brush. He left nor trail, and no matter how tightly chocked his path was with all manner of plants; Quinn was not slowed for a moment as he glided through the forest to the glade.

The eerie silence that greeted Quinn upon arrival was unsettling, it had only been this quiet when the bodies of orcs had for years scarring the grove. This was different one of the ravens was clutching a broken shaft in its talons and then loosed its grasp and it fell upon one of the smaller cairn stones. Then with a look of disgust and shock the elf incinerated the broken arrow all the while cursing venomously in several tongues, three that Quinn could not even begin to decipher. Then she turned from the pile of ash and faced Quinn, "Sit we need to talk novice, talk of many things."

Quinn eager to know what had happened sat down cross-legged with his back to another cairn stone and prepared to listen, but all that greeted him was silence for several moments until she began to slowly speak.

"Do not speak do not think, do not look for any hidden meanings, I will tell you the truth as it is and I will make no attempt to shroud it from you. I had prayed for more time to prepare you, I thought that we would have more time, but there is never enough time." Her head bowed for a moments as if mimicking taking a deep breath, "Long ago the order of Druids I belonged to failed in its duty. For years uncounted we protected a mound that our goddess had bled upon during her struggles with Grumush long ago while the dew of creation was still fresh upon the earth. Over the centuries we lost our way and stopped being defenders and instead became solitary, abandoning all save our own. When our onetime allies were threatened and called upon us for aid, we found reasons to refuse, and with our refusal their fates were sealed."

Quinn's eyes widened with shock upon hearing those words, yet he wisely kept his thoughts to himself and did not move an inch as she continued her tale.

"They cursed us, the doomed defenders. Beings of all the goodly races fighting not for their own survival, but for their kin, who lived in the valley below. Ehlonna heard their cries and became…angered towards. She severed the link between the druids and her, and when the orcs had finished with the fortress another war party still hungering for blood fell upon us here. We were no match for them and those that could fled, Ehlonna's shrines were torn down and shrines to Grumush were raised over the broken rubble."

For only a moments she looked as though she would end her tale, but gates to a dark portion of her being had been opened and nothing could stem the tide." Of all those that escaped to this grove, none would ever reclaim their connection to Ehlonna, after weeks of prayer and penance nothing would help and many renounced their faith and journeyed with other refugees south. Some remained her, living out their lives in penance, and they had children.

Stifling a laugh she began again, "Born from forsaken druids yet Ehlonna had mercy upon the children and them and they were able to reclaim the lost link…for a price. So great was Ehlonna's anger that she bound those that had broken her covenant with them to this world, they are bound here as I am in the places of their death and cannot move on until two deeds were done, the fortress lost because of our inaction would be reclaimed and the mound must be reclaimed as well."

"For two hundred years we fought to reclaim the fortress and the mound, we hunted them in their holes and knew no fear in our divine mission…and no success. All we accomplished was to keep the orcs fighting us and not the descendant of those we failed so long ago."

"You must do what I could not novice. You have a great gift and Ehlonna acts through you."

Quinn rose from the ground, a mix of shock and amazement combined upon his face, " I can't do this, its to much. I can't save anyone"

The moon elf advanced upon and instead of striking him, or deluging him with water she merely laid her hand upon his chin lifting it up, and spoke softly. "Ehlonna spoke to me once as I lay between this world and death. She told me it was not for me to redeem our order, I would train he who would. He would come to this grove and I would know because he would believe himself lost even though he always would find his path. He would be selfless and be that which our order was before its fall."

"I'm not powerful enough to do what is needed."

"Power is nothing, novice, all that matters is the will. If power was all that would be needed to set things right then our enclave would never have fallen those centuries before. This is your trial novice, I will offer whatever aid I can but upon leaving this grove I will not be able to call upon my powers. I will merely be a voice whispering in your mind"

A change came upon Quinn as he fingered an amulet bearing the mark of Ehlonna upon it. He smiled and looked upon his mentor," Thanks for putting all the pressure upon me."

Sensing the jovial nature of Quinn's remark she responded in kind, "In the ages before we were eradicated the final test for all novices was to be sent out upon a mission by Ehlonna. This is your task and your challenge…become who you were meant to be Quinn, not what you think you should be but what you must be. She turned away and grasped the very same blade that Quinn had refused days before, "This is _Natures Wrath_. It has passed down from druid to druid for ages I give it to you Quinn in hopes that it will aid you in your task. If you even think about refusing this time, I will gladly call upon Ehlonna's wrath and smite you lightning."

Still shaking with unease Quinn reached for the scimitar and grasped its ornate handle…he felt the power coursing through the blade and saw something that surprised him engraved upon the pummel. The symbols of two goddess were placed side by side, he recognized the sigil of Ehlonna instantly, but it took a moment for Quinn to recognize the mark of Elistree, _The Dark Maiden_. The blade had been forged by a drow, and even rarer, whoever the forger had been had been a drow seeking redemption. "This is truly a unique blade indeed."

"It has many graces and rest assured you will need all of them novice, it served me well and it will serve you just as well. Before we leave I have one last gift to give you, and with that said she glided her hand through Quinn's head. Suddenly he was bombarded with images and details, "These are my memories of the area, I hope that they aid you…" She paused suddenly looked down upon Quinn, "Is there a reason that you are lying on the ground holding your head novice?"

"it feels like you hit my head with a dwarven warhammer."

"Ah so it did work, I had doubts, but I figured that you would survive. My own life was imperiled as well in doing such a transfer of memories."

"But you're already dead!"

Her smile stretched almost from ear to ear as she retorted, "Just because I am dead does not mean that I do not care." That said she placed her hand upon his shoulder and whispered a few words in half hushed tones.

Quinn noticed the pain subsided immediately, and grudgingly rose to his feet. "Thanks to your near lobotomy of me I know where to go, but I still have issues with attacking an army of orcs."

"Oh they're mostly gone now, they left to attack Aaron's Mill."

Quinn was aghast with shock, "My friends are there, I need to help them."

"Novice listen to me, you cannot save them by joining then. You can save them by breaking the link between the Orcs and their god, you reclaim the mound, and you break their strength. That is how you will save your friends, and we must move quickly before all is lost.

Rohan's Ramble:

Hope that you all enjoy the update, and let me know of what you think.


	8. Time to use the old school

Somewhere I can belong Chapter 8

Time to use the old school

Ramblings from Rohan:

Battle is joined as Aaron's Mill fights off against the horde from Dark Tower Keep, any and all comments are welcome.

The battle had begun in earnest with lines of orcs rushing forward with ladders while arrows and boulders being hurled through the air by catapults. Already fires were raging in several parts of the city, but the walls had not been breached, and the gates had not been broken…Aaron's Mill stood defiantly against the orc horde. One section of the wall was stained black with the blood of orcs of those that had tried to overwhelm its defenders. A Group of four friends gazed out over the battlefield as yet another orc phalanx began to approach the wall.

"Gamgee, we got another bunch of tin orcs coming our way…if you have any magic you can pull out of your hat now would be the time for it."

A figure that had hunched behind a battlement while flipping frantically through a badly damaged spell book, "Crystal darling first off I don't wear a hat, frankly I don't know how you can wear that full helm, I find that a hat of any type chafes my ears."

"Gamgee now is not a good time for fashion sense, so unless you want to hit another orc over the head with your spell book now would be a good time."

"Don't worry I've been saving this one for a special occasion, it's a spell that dates back to the hallowed days of antiquity when…

"Gamgee save us the history lesson and cast the damn fireball." Crystal roared.

"Staring at his heavily armed and irate companion, Gamgee blurted out, "Fire ball it is." With that he moved his arms in an intricate pattern that culminated with a massive fireball forming above his upraised hands and with a final gesture the blazing sphere rushed towards the advancing formation and utterly scattered the formation. With the shield wall broken the remaining orcs were easy marks for other archers. Glancing at his handywork Gamgee stood triumphantly on the battlement casting spell after spell as lightening and hail became manifest from his spell casting. After each spell he bellowed out who had first discovered it and the era it was from. To those around him it was though Gamgee was lecturing them on the history of his sp

And at last with his spells spent he stood there taunting the orcs, "I'm good oh yes I'm good." Gamgee's tirade ended as Janet grabbed him roughly by his torc and pulled him behind one of the stone of the stone battlements, her other hand held two black feathered arrows dripping with venom.

"Don't taunt any enemy unless you're out of range or can catch arrows Gamgee, you owe me two drinks and it better not be the slop you called wine the other night or I won't catch the next one."

Gamgee rapidly considered the implication of this and vowed silently not to water down her next drink, "Top shelf from now on old friend."

Walking as though unaware of the barrage of arrows and other projectiles a dwarf with no beard approached the group, it was not till the dwarf drew nearer that they all noticed the scorch marks on his armor and the blisters that covered his face. At first Crysal though he was in shock and rushed forward while uttering out a prayer to heal his wounds..only to be stopped by the upraised hand of the dwarf.

"Don't be using that no good elven lingo upon me, I want my beard growing back the natural way and not in some undwarven manner! You three and the barbarian trainee are to report to Commander Ironbeard immediately. You'll find him in the Blue Boar Inn."

"Good that means we can finally get something to eat I'm exhausted form all my spell casting." Gamgee uttered as he began to push himself up off of the floor. Only to be shoved back down by the now fuming messenger.

"Oh is the little elf tired from casting his little spell now and need to take a nap. Listen you pointy ear cloak wearing sloth. You fight off twenty orcs single handly while singing out to your god while you're armor and beard is on fire then you can take a nap. Seeing as though you don't even have a beard that means no nap so get your lazy elven arse to the Commander before I motivate you there." He said poking Gamgee for added effort.

"I can fight twenty orcs while on fire. Can I take a nap." Brangar had blurted out, Crystal and Janet covered their eyes as the messenger started screaming out in dwarven while pulling Brangar to the ground by his nose and twisting it again, "Did I give you permission to speak trainee. No I didn't, you're whining just as much as the elf now shut your trap and get to the inn before I lose my temper." Brangar and Gamgee needed no more prompting as they sprinted for the nearest stairway. Crystal and Janet followed close behind both shaking their heads and laughing at their comrade's expense. "I wish Quinn was here to see that Crystal."

Upon hearing that she turned around and looked at her friend and said with all the strength she could muster, "We'll both tell him what happened when we drag him back here."

"Allright Crystal but in the meanwhile can you tell me what happened in Lumeria?"

At that moment Crystals face burst into a blazing bright red and her mouth fell open, it took several moments before she was able to compose herself and form a complete sentence. "Janet…you're to young, I'll tell you later when you're older."

"Fine that's all right I just wanted to compare it to Gamgee's version."

Crystal turned around even redder than before, and had an empty look of pure unbridled fury in her eyes, and there was a trace of panic in her voice "What did he tell you?"

Showing no fear Janet answered, "Oh just that there was much ale drunk and that a clan made a sculpture of you. Why is there more to the story than that?"

"Oh look at that we're here at the Inn, we'll save this conversation for another time. We mustn't keep the Commander Ironbeard waiting." That said Crystal rushed inside of the _Blue Boar Inn_. Leaving Janet outside mumbling to herself, "Must have been one hell of a sculpture."

Ramblings from Rohan:

I've learned that plotlines are a good thing to have and that often the best come out of nowhere. Anyone care to guess as to what happened in Llumeria with Crystal?


	9. Mysteries revealed and introductions mad...

Somewhere I can belong

Chapter 9

Mysteries revealed and introductions made

Rohan's Ramble: Apologies for the long delay. Yay, I've been reviewed that makes me feel great. Thank you very much, grayangle hope that this chapter meets up to your expectation.

Fearing the wrath of his heavily armored, Gamgee sprinted off to the _Blue Boar Inn_ hoping to lose himself in a crowd, and was immediately heartbroken. The fates were not with him. Instead of a densely packed bar, there were only two elves at the bar, one idly strumming a lyre while the other was guzzling down a tankard of some ale. All in all not a good place to hide from a paladin.

With all hope of sanctuary lost Gamgee muttered softly, "Well if I'm going to die I might as well have one last glass of wine. Who am I kidding for Mystra's sake I better make it the whole bottle."

Suddenly Gamgee felt an iron grip on his shoulder and all thoughts of a having a final drink before his judgment fled from his mind. Gathering his courage and wits he turned to face an enraged Crystal only to be met by the grinning maw of Clovis.

" I say Gamgee what brings you here at this hour of the day. I would have thought that you would be manning the walls and casting spells at those uncivilized brutes that are daring to attack our fair city."

"You don't know how happy I am to see your face Clovis, I'm on a bit of a reprieve to meet Commander Ironbeard but I would relish the chance to share a fine bottle of wine with you until then." All the while Gamgee was darting glances watching the door while shepharding his friend to one of the more out of the way corner booths that the inn had to offer.

"Ah a special mission of sorts, than far be it me to drink at your expense. I will purchase the wine and we shall talk about things other than the unwashed mob that threatens our fair city."

"That would be most pleasant Clovis."

"Agreed then I will fetch the wine and then you could tell me about your friend Quinn." With that said Clovis moved his enormous orcish bulk from the booth.

Gamgee watched Clovis flag down the bartender and procure several bottles, but what interested him were the two elves. The more battle scarred of the two was making more and more threatening glares at the other every time that the other began to strum his lyre. Something was not right and the calm that the empty bar offered would not last much longer. If the bar were filled Gamgee welcomed a fight, it would distract Crystal and keep him alive that much longer.

An enormous shadow fell upon him and he knew that Clovis had returned, "Well their selection did leave something to be desired but I was able to procure some exsqisite wine from a good year, or at least the label proclaims." Clovis added with a chuckle while filling the glasses, "Now then Gamgee where do you wish to begin your tale?"

Taking the offered mug Gamgee remarked, "Let me tell you how I met the most messed up druid that I have ever had the privilege of knowing in my several decades upon this world." Gamgee's tale became and more animated as he drank more wine…as did Gamgee's own comments on Quinn's life. "I mean he's just too damned nice for his own good. He goes about introducing himself but the moment that any reward is offered in his name or what not he's halfway to the wilderness. I mean there was this bard that was going to compose this ballad in his name for saving her and she was trying to track him down and he just kept avoiding her. I think he spent a day hiding under the inn as some sort of creature, all she wanted to do was sing a song about him but he hid away and would hear no part of it. I never saw a bard in such a lousy state, she was on the verge of tears so decided to do the only thing we could do."

Clovis could not contain his interest and excitement in the story, "What did you do Gamgee?"

"What else could we do, we told her the entirety of the story ourselves. That bard was so happy she practically was beaming with joy. We never told Quinn but we always make sure that he gets his share of recognition whether he wants it or not. I mean why should we hog all the glory and riches."

Throughout the entire conversation Clovis had sat in silence drinking in the details of the tale and of course refilling Gamgee's wine mug to keep the story going. There were things that did not make sense and in mind the half orc was thinking and making theories as to why Quinn acted the way he did, and after several more moments Clovis politely interjected, "Gamgee I have a question for you."

"Oh go right ahead and ask Clovis I have no reason to keep anything from you."

"Well then, does Quinn have a last name?"

"Oh how foolish of me, it must be the alcohol dulling my intellect." He offered his voice slightly slurred. "It's Vos, his full name his Quinn Vos."

Clovis interlaced his fingers and began in a lecturing tone, "Interesting, did you know that his last name means to flee, or to seek sanctuary in Namarian." Gamgee began to stare at Clovis as if spellbound as Clovis continued. "Namarian nobles, especially males are bound by contracts of marriage at fairly young age, they are heavily indoctrinated to be well behaved and coordinal."

"That's sounds like Quinn all right. Come to think of it, Quinn has a real problem around women…especially elven women."

"That would make sense because Namarian nobles hire elven women to instruct their children, and they are told to be as ruthless as possible in their education. There were rumors that they hired drow in some cases." Gamgee's faltering gaze snapped to attention at the mention of the race of fallen elven race.

"That given Quinn's almost fanatical need to avoid leaving a trail of any sort leads me to believe that he is in effect a Namarain noble of some standing fleeing an arranged marriage of some sort."

Gamgee reacted to this news in a way that Clovis did not expect the elf to react, after letting forth a great belch, his eyes rolled over into his skull, and his head went forward crashing into the table. A half-hearted groan of pain issued from the prone elf. Clovis reached over and pulled up his friend as gently as he could taking care not to drop him to he ground. Than with all the grace and care possible that Clovis possessed with his considerable strength he began to ever wildly shake the wizard back and forth in hopes of returning him to consciousness.

"Wake up Gamgee!" Clovis bellowed.

The life started to come back to Gamgee's eyes and he became more coherent, "Clo Clov Clovis," he muttered. "Ststststop shashashashshaaking me."

"Sorry Gamgee, I wanted to make sure that I hadn't shocked you to death with my theories. That and I wanted to warn you that your heavily armored friend is by the bar and she doesn't look to happy."

"Clovis I really wish you hadn't woken me up."

Clovis grinned nearly from ear to ear as he added, "Would you rather have had her sneak up on you while you were unaware Gamgee?"

With his shoulders slumped and both of his hands clutching his head Gamgee replied. "With her Clovis, it wouldn't have helped either way."

A few moments earlier while Gamgee was drinking to new and exciting limits Crystal had arrived, her face was flushed red to the point where it looked as though she had been badly burned or if she had been sprayed by blood. As she had rushed inside the _Blue Boar_, memories of a past left buried and forgotten kept bubbling up no matter how hard she avoided it. Herenious help me; oh I am going to ring Gamgee's scrawny neck for all the grief he caused her. Muttering out in Elvish, "I should have just turned my back on him years ago." A sudden roar from the bar shattered Crystals monologue.

Spinning her head only as an elf could she could not believe what she saw. Two elves were arguing back and forth but she could only make out a few words, what she heard made her aghast. The warrior was speaking in a gruff common with a thick accent of orcish and terrifying the smaller elven bard.

"You talk to me in that thrice blasted tongue again and i'll take that elven piece of junk you call a lyre away from you i'll wrap it around your pointy eared head. You even speak your cursed language around me again and I will play you for a lyre." The other elf started muttering an apology… unfortunately he said it in Elvish. Before the warrior could follow through on his threat though Crystal had stepped between the two, and finally got a decent look at the other figher.

Crystal locked gazes with him, and saw that much like Janet his features were a mix of human and elven, he wore heavily scarred scale mail, bizarre tattoos and scars cut across his face. A hilt for a great sword was easily seen over her shoulder and another long sword was strapped to his belt. His brown hair was cut short and choppy as if by a daggers edge. Wild blue grey eyes met her green ones and a voice barely above a whisper came, "Leave me be elf. You touch me again elf and you won't have to worry about the filth outside of the walls."

Crystal was aghast and answered, "How can you hate our kind so much, are you that jealous of that which we possess that you do not?" The response that greeted her was not what she had expected in the least.

The elf stood to his full height towering over Crystal by a few inches, "Jealous? Me? Of a stuck up race that demands perfections and destroys that that doesn't meet its expectations? I am Thrack of the Rhetwani, and know this elf, I share no blood willingly with your kind." That said Thrack turned and left the bar, leaving a terrified bard and Crystal with a new mystery on her head.

Meanwhile further down the bar Gamgee was drinking a steaming hot beverage that Clovis had proclaimed would end his headache and other ails. After watching the entire exchange Clovis remarked, "I say my good elf Gamgee did you say that whole sorted affair? I can't believe that half elf acted the way he did. It was rather brutish wouldn't you say?"

"That half elf has almost as many issues as Quinn."

"Ah yes, well it just shows that you can't judge a book by its cover." Clovis replied showing his mammoth orcish grin as he gulped the last of the precious amber liquid. "If I were you I'd get ready to hide."

"Why's that Clovis?"

"Well that angry irate elven paladin friend of yours is coming over here with murder in her eyes. I don't suppose that you can turn yourself invisible?"

"My good friend I will face this foe as I have faced all of my enemies in the past."

"Oh so you always fight when you're battles half drunk?"

"I'll have you know that I have fought battles when I have been far drunker than this. I'm only tipsy and I'll have you know Clovis, as long as I can wiggle my fingers and mutter out the words I have nothing to fear." Gamgee rose up and draping his arm around Clovis's shoulder he muttered out, "You're a good Half Orc Clovis, and I just got to say that you're a good friend, and a good drinking buddy, cause you listen not many people listen anymore listen…. Theirs a scary lady standing behind me right now isn't there?"

"Gamgee, I won't lie to you, there is a very scary lady standing behind you."

"Does she look like she's going to hurt me?"

"Why yes Gamgee, she does like she's going to hurt you, but on the bright side you probably won't feel it.

At that moment Crystal leaned over and placed her gauntleted hands on Gamgee's shoulder and softly whispered, "Gamgee we need to have a little chat about Llumeria and what we agreed never to speak of again."

"You two look as though you need to have some alone time and I need to get back to my books, and you two have a wonderful conversation.

Ramblings from Rohan:

Hope that you enjoy this chapter, my life is beginning to become far to busy with work, and lack of a real Spring Break and what not, I will however get the next chapter out much earlier than it took to have chapter 9 finished. We'll switch back to Quinn as he tells his side of the story in Chapter 10, _Why I became a Druid_, enjoy.


	10. The Druid's Tale

Somewhere I can Belong Chapter 10

The Druids Tale

Rambling from Rohan: So after finishing my longest chapter ever I'm hoping to get one out at least as long in a much shorter time frame. Corrected some mistakes with the last chapter and if anyone is interested in being a beta reader let me know at almost forgot something important, if something is written in _Italics_ that means Quinn is thinking it.

Oh yeah one last thing, all D&D thing belong to Wizards of the Coast and what not. Now onto the story.

Quinn's mind was abuzz with activity as thoughts raced through his mind, to many questions always to many questions. His trek had not been in silence however, a rich sylvan voice had been whispering in his ear, albeit sometimes very loudly

"Now novice what is the best possible combination to use when fighting a group of the wretches of Grumush."

Between grasps of breath Quinn replied, "The six count, alternating with heaven and earth."

"Good good novice, variety is the spice of life and those unthinking savages are oh so unable to grasp the elegance of the patterns."

Stopping in mid-stride Quinn fired back, "They might not grasp the elegance but they also do not fear it either. I prefer the three count myself when facing orcs. As their comrades lose their heads the remainder grow slower and more cautious something that their fighting style is not equipped to handle. They become sloppy and off balance leaving openings" Slowly Quinn began to count off and by the time he reached 4 the Sylvan voice was screaming in his ear"

"You do not use the "zombie killer" against orcs. Orcs wear helmets for Ehlona's sake novice."

"But not full helms, mentor. Their necks are still open, and why are you still calling me novice still? I thought we were on a first name basis, granted you still haven't told me your name yet but it is not my place to ask such things." Quinn answered defiantly dropping his pack to the ground."

"Ouch don't do that novice, that hurt, I may be dead but I still feel pain."

"The anger that had been building washed away as Quinn gently picked up his pack gently making sure that none of the soil inside had been lost. The sound of Quinn's rushed apology in Sylvan, Druidic, and Elven was soon interrupted by a booming laughter.

"Novice I never get tired of watching you do that. I still can't believe how simple it was to take the grove with you and thus allowing me to use my powers alongside you."

"Thank you mentor, I had my doubts but I had read of a similar account of a cleric and…"

"Wait you mean to tell me that you weren't sure that it would work? My spirit could have been scattered across the twisting nether and beyond!"

Wearily leaning against a small knoll and with a smile on his face Quinn replied, "If it worked for the spirit of an ancient cleric I thought for certain that it would work for you mentor." Within a matter of seconds Quinn realized his mistake and watched as the jovial nature vanished from her ethereal face and rage became easily apparent, and Quinn cringed fearing the wrath that would soon fall upon him.

"Oh so you think that I am old now." She advanced upon Quinn jabbing her finger, into his chest with every syllable."

Seeing her hand slide into his chest and even knowing the threat he was in facing an angry druid. Who was female. Who was a female elf. Who was a spirit of a skilled female elven druid albeit a dead one. In the face of all of that danger Quinn could not resist saying, "That would be more effective mentor if you were actually poking me and not sliding through me."

The look of shock on her face made it impossible not to laugh, and soon Quinn was clutching his sides to try to control his booming laughter. His mentor was quickly chanting a spell and within moments Quinn was doused in water. "Must I call down the wrath of the storm to stop your laughter novice?" Seeing that Quinn was not troubled at all by the rapid cloudburst of water and was actually smiling as if he was reliving a treasured memory. Her ethereal hands grasped her head and grasped her head as if it would help her in understanding this human, and finally realized that there was only solutions…she would have to ask him, "What is so funny novice. You're soaking wet with night about to set in and somehow you seem unable to stop laughing?"

"Oh these last few days have reminded me of my life at home."

Crouching next to her soaked "Tell me about your home novice, I have not been beyond this region in all the years of either of my lives."

"Either lives?" Quinn was perplexed till a moments later everything fell into place as he realized what she had meant, "Ah yes I understand now, dead and not so dead. There is not much to say I grew up in a land to the North called Namoria." Quinn's mind flooded with images of a past he had tried to forget. "There's not much to say about it."

Suddenly Quinn was recipient of something very similar to Crystals Death Stare from his companion, "Novice, one of the great and powerful effect all teachers have is to tell when one of their students is lying to them. Now would you like to try again?"

"It's a very long story mentor and I wouldn't want to bore you with it."

"Don't worry novice, we can camp right here for the night."

Quinn shook his head before staring at his mentor, "I'm not going to win this argument am I?"

"No you are not novice, even if you leave the soil from the grove here I will still be able to follow you nagging in your ear for all eternity. Besides it's time that you ought to learn never to argue with a woman...regardless of their race. You will always lose." She spoke the last words in an almost hushed tone, but Quinn heard every word."

With grim realization showing on his face Quinn answered, "What would you like to know?"

Having dropped the grim stare that had bored into Quinn, his companion settled into the ground and sitting across from Quinn and with an almost childlike smile on her face replied, "Everything."

Clearing his throat he began, "I was a son in a minor household. _Images leapt to his mind of a towering castle with a lush forest nearby that spread out beyond the range of sight._ My parents wanted me to be the best that I could be and my sisters were always helping to make sure that I stayed on the straight and narrow and not be an embarrassment to the family. _Images of countless tasks thrown upon him, unplug the cesspool, clean the moat, polish the battlements of the north tower, and put up a new lightening rod on the keep. It's only broken not bleeding get back up. _ It was an interesting life."

His mentor interrupted his censored life story, "Why did you become a follower of Ehlona? Being the son of a noble you could have had a much simpler life."

"I was just about to get to get to that part."

Rolling her eyes she said with childlike glee, "Now we're getting to the good stuff."

_If only you knew, _"It was because of my nanny, her name was Ruehinda."

"Ruehinda, that's an elvish name isn't it novice?"

"Why yes it mentor. Would you like to take over telling the story and I can take a nap?"

"Oh but you tell it so well novice. So you learned your overblown sense of behavior from an elven maiden?"

_You could say that, I prefer to think of her as an ebon skinned dweller of the abyss set to punish me for being a male_. "She was very good at what she did." _Her voice alone was enough to drive veteran soldiers who had been bloodied in countless battles to shake_ _in fear, let alone the snake whip she kept with her with its incessant hissing._ "She loved to spend time indoors teaching me the finer protocols of what would be expected of me as a good son." _Always crushing my hopes indoctrinating me to be some mindless drone. Dark she loved the dark; I would go days without seeing the sun or even the stars at night_.

"Odd that she preferred to spend her time in the manor and not the open air. But not unheard of, perhaps in her old age she preferred the warmth that your family's manor offered."

_That ancient crone only lived for the money that my family ever so joyfully gave her and the joy she derived from torturing me. "_Well she was old and she did like the manor." _Though she went on and on about the wretched hobble that it was whispering advice into my mother ear, my father went mad remodeling it to her likings._

"This Ruehinda sounds like she had quite an impact on our life Quinn. Did she also inspire you to learn the way of Ehlona? Even in some part."

"She encouraged me to spend time outdoors, so in a way she did. I doubt I would have become what I am without her driving force." Quinn stifled a laugh as another memory came to light, that of his first victory over his family and Ruehinda. "You see mentor I used to snore very loudly as a child, and it got to be so bad that my family made me sleep outside of the manor at night." _Every beating was worth it as I finally got that crone mad enough to become angry with me and send me outside._

"You became a follower of Ehlona because you snored?"

"For the most part."

"Quinn you are by far the most…unusual persons that I have ever met."

"This coming from a spirit that is bound by a divine edict to reclaim a holy site and fortress?" he replied with a smirk."

"So I assume you left your family to seek out adventure and live your life in accordance with Ehlona's tenants?"

"Your wisdom is indeed vast mentor, I left home and swore not to return until I had made something of myself." _Actually fleeing for my life, and to avoid a forced marriage. That and vowing to never return save to destroy that which they had built. _From there the rest is history I traveled for some time and made by way to these lands where I met those I once traveled with. Now if you don't mind mentor may we talk about this later. Those of us that still have a heartbeat need their rest?"

"I suppose so novice you need your beauty sleep."

Smirking back at his mentor Quinn retorted, "In my case it would take to much sleep, good night mentor. Oh where did the raven fly off to?"

"Well there are a lot of ravens in this land, could you be more specific young novice?"

"The one that had been following us for the past few days, I believe his name is Burntfeather."

"Oh that raven, oh he's probably off hunting bugs, he really likes those flaming bugs, and I think that's how he was given his name."

"No wait let me guess mentor, as he was trying to eat them, one started his feathers on fire."

"Quite true young novice, poor raven. Spent most of a season half naked as his feather grew back."

"I should have stayed in Namoria, goodnight mentor."

Soon silence settled over the camp, there was no hearth and as twilight settled into dusk soon nothing could be seen leaving the moon elf with only her own thoughts. As Quinn drifted into sleep, with his weapons close at hand, his mentor was left with more questions than answers. When she had shared her memories with Quinn it had been a mutual exchange. She lived his life through those memories and knew everything about him, she felt the love and hatred he had for his family and how he had barely banished his hatred of them over his journey. That and his never ending grief from his failure to save Twrch. "So much pain you hold onto even when it is not yours to bear. Her anger of the drow intensified as she saw the cruelties that Ruehinda placed upon him. She felt the joy and exhilaration that he felt as he moved through the woodlands and the times that he had spent with his friends. Ehlona had sent this one to her for this task and now more than ever she believed in Quinn Elistril. Burntfeather glided down to tell her of the orc movements around the mound and how it was mostly deserted save for an orc ugly by even orc standards. Well best to worry about that in the morning.

Rambling from Rohan: Yay longest chapter ever. Chapter 10 is done and next chapter will be split between both groups. Learn the do or die plan that Quinn's friends must succeed at, and be amazed at how ugly an orc can be in Chapter 11


	11. Trying Paths

Somewhere I can belong Chapter 11

Trying Paths

Ramblings from Rohan: Yay people are reviewing that makes me happy. Hopefully this chapter will not disappoint you, I've got a weird mix of songs on my itunes playing so that should help the creativity process simmer and produce something interesting.

Greyangle:

Thank you for reviewing so many times, I always look forward to your comments. As for the sculpture, wells lets say that your partially right. The statue of Crystal carries a bit of notoriety combing the best of two cultures and that is all I will say on the matter

Wordsmith:

Kev, all authors include parts of themselves into their stories, that allows us to not think as hard of ideas we just incorporate ideas from our own past. Cuts down on the time needed for updates.

Kar-Vermin

Grammar and sentence structure have never been strong points of mine. Thank you for your kind words

Disclaimer: Same as before and with that let the tale begin.

After some thinking I redid the ending to chapter 10 it was a little rushed and it didn't flow right. So the previous chapter has a new and improved ending to chapter 10.

Chapter 11

Trying Paths

Some time ago and many leagues to the south another elf was rapidly prostrating himself to his goddess in silent prayer awaiting his doom. He knew there would be no reprieve save for an intervention of several divine beings. Deliverance however did arrive though not in the form that Gamgee was expecting.

With a kick that forced the doors off of their hinges Gloin Ironbeard in all his dwarven glory entered the nearly deserted bar. If the bar had been full none would have dared to bar his path, his bearded face scanned the bar and seeing the confrontation looming he approached as only a dwarf wearing plate male could.

At first Gamgee thought that the sudden booming that was echoing through the deserted tavern was merely a figment of his own imagination till he saw Crystal turn and face the booming. It was no imagined noise as Gloin commander of the Gate of Moradin moved into view. Gamgee was fairly certain that Crystal would no longer separate his head from his shoulders, but from what he knew of Dwarven culture she could get away with breaking several of his fingers and pass it off as a friendly handshake. Gamgee's reverie was broken by Gloin's gruff common.

"Well where by Moradin's blessed hammer where are the rest of ya? If that beardless nephew of mine got the message wrong I'll pull his hairs out as they grow back one at a time." Grabbing the still mostly full wine bottle Gloin and drowning it in a matter of seconds and after "Where's the other three, there's suppose to be 5 of you." You, you, Thrack, that other one, and the barbarian trainee make 5. There two of you here where are the other three. We don't have time to sit around her and drink till they get here." Gloin choose another of Gamgee's wine bottles and between gulps of wine added, "There is a war going on and based on what I heard about your abilities in defending the wall I had a special task for you."

Meanwhile a few minutes ago Janet was trying to instruct Brangar on how to make a good impression on Commander Ironbeard. "Now when you enter the room drop your arms and stand at attention, military people like that. No not like that drop your arms to your sides and suck in your gut. Stand straight back."

"How do I know if my back is straight enough Janet?"

"Bend back till your spine hurts and then you know."

At that time Janet entered leading a still somewhat moaning mound of muscle. Why do they always have to break my nose, I like my nose, I like to smell things why do the hairy short people always keep hurting my sniffer Brangar who had one of this enormous paws of hands clutching his nose after his last encounter with a dwarf. Brangar's voice broke off as he saw Gloin glaring at him.

"Oh are you complaining trainee! Cause if you are I can always just rip your nose right off and then it won't hurt so much."

Brangar immediately did as Janet instructed and quickly stood to attention, with his arms at his sides and his gut sucked in and barked out, "Brangar reporting as ordered Commander Ironbeard."

Gloin nearly fell out of his chair in shock before screaming out, "What in the seven hells do you think you are doing trainee?"

"Standing at attention sir"

Gloin could bear it no longer as he leapt from his chair and stormed over to Brangar and again grabbed his nose twisting it violently all the while screaming out, "Barbarians do not stand at attention stand at attention you trainee, now by the abyss sit down and shut your trap. Or I'll rip this waste of flesh off of your trainee hide."

Brangar quickly brought both of his oversized hand to protectively cover his nose and seemed on the verge of tears. "I lie to smell things don't take my sniffer!"

Turning his attention to the rest of the group he began to point at the other group members, "Okay one trainee, one person without any weapons and armor, one elven god fighter, and one weakling wizard. Well that's four where is that blasted Thrack. He was supposed to be here. So help me if I have to leave this bar to go get him"

"I'm here Ironbeard."

"Glancing back to the door the dwarf's eyes caught sight of the half elf. Glancing at the freshly painted intricate symbols that covered his body Gloin nodded knowingly, "Glad to see that you're all dressed up."

"I hope its worthwhile Ironbeard, I have a little brother to take care of."

"I'll never understand you Thrack, he's a foot taller than you and outweighs you by 5 stone. " With a grin Gloin added, "That's not little."

"Well you know how Thrack, he acts like a little bear cub, never happy if he isn't swing his clever cleaver. I never should have gotten him that great axe. He just won't stay let it go."

"Did they pull that ballista bolt out of him all right?"

"Another day of bed rest and he should be good as new.

"That brother of yours is almost as tough as a dwarf."

Gamgee hesitantly broke up their conversation, "Charming as that is, why were we summoned here?" Thrack and Gloin both glared at him with fury in their eyes, that seemed to dim in Gloin's eyes, why Thrack's lost none of their fury.

"All right book boy, this is what you're going to be doing. I got a special mission for the five of you, a little search and destroy that need to be done. The walls are still holding and none of the finely crafted dwarven gates have been breached." All save Brangar realized the pride in his voice. "Those wretched spawns of millings aren't going to quit so easily though. They have some catapults that they are bringing into range."

"Why don't you just cast..." Gloin cut off Gamgee's interruption by smashing his gauntlet down onto the table shattering it and causing a bottle of wine to fall to the ground and shatter. A single tear fell from Janet's eyes as she beheld the horrible waste."

"We've tried that already book boy, there's an mound of dirt in front of it that's got more wards on it than a dragon's backside. Nothing magical can get past their barricades. That's what you five come in, my kin have a tunnel that will get you past the wall and close enough to blow up their catapults and whatever else they have back there."

"How are to get back inside, since the prudent move would be to collapse the tunnel after we exit and I don't like our chances on the outside." Answered Crystal after a moment of silence.

"By the beard of all my ancestors you think I'm sending you to your deaths, this is strictly volunteer. Besides we need you on the walls after you get back. I can't afford to send you on a suicide mission, well maybe the trainee and book boy but not the rest of you."

"Funny joke."

"Who said I was joking book boy. The supports are set with delayed charges, you pull the wire and run. That simple. You leave at dawn."

"I mean no offense Commander Ironbeard, but this plan seems rushed and we need more time to prepare for any…." Crystals remark was cut short by the sound of what could only be a boulder smashing inside the city."

Gloin spat a dwarven curse as he rushed to assess the damage, the five warriors followed closely behind, "You still want to plan while they drop a mountain on us. Meet me by Moradin's Gate at first light, you leave then. Get some rest you're no good to the mission if you're all dead tired." Gloin bellowed to them before rushing into the crowd.

Crystal was torn, her duty as a paladin demanded her to help these people right now, but she knew that she would be worthless in a fight if she were exhausted. "Everyone we meet here an hour before daylight, spend the night as you will, but get some sleep."

"What about you Crystal, you're no good out there."

"Gamgee I must do as my faith demands, and I cannot rest while I can help others." Suddenly the other four were recipients of Crystals death stare as her voice dropped several octaves, "You can't sway me on this so don't try." That said she stormed onto into the crowd. Slowly she was lost amid the chaos as people struggled to move away from more incoming projectiles. As she moved closer to the impact sites Crystal saw the damage being done by the barrage, and as she moved to aid she suddenly felt a sharp blow to her head and suddenly the world was spinning before fading to black.

"Fricken elves. Never doing the right thing at the right time." Thrack murmured as he threw her over his should as he walked back to the inn.

Several hors passed as Crystal began to awaken from her pummel induced trance, try as she cold she could no remember how she had gotten to this room, or for that matter why she was still wearing her armor. Her head still throbbed as she rose from the mattress. The room was very spartan with no additional comforts other than mattress and a small window. Glancing outside she could see the stars nor the moon, dawn was rapidly approaching and she had to move quickly to get to the inn, but her dizziness still persisted and she found moving to be far more difficult than she had thought it would be. That was when door opened, and she smelled him before seeing him. For a short moment she thought it was Brangar, but the figure didn't smell as bad, shaking her head ever so silently she realized that it was Thrack.

"Bout time you woke up elf. " Holding out a bottle to Crystal he continued, "Drink this, it'll help."

The smell of the potion alone made her cringe but time and time again, Crystal had learned that the worse a potion smelled the better it made you feel. Steeling herself she drained the potion and cringed as her body convulsed and slowly the aches and pains were replaced by a feeling of well being.

Before Crystal had the chance to offer thanks, Thrack cut her off, "Now if your little head is feeling better we have a place that we need to be, watch out of falling rocks." Grasping her helm and sword Crystal followed close behind trying to piece together the events that had lead her to this room, but upon seeing the devastation being rought upon the city she banished all such thoughts, and focused on the problem at hand, that of the bombardment and what would be needed to stop it.

Rambling from Rohan:

Well this isn't as long as the last chapter but hopefully it will meet your expectations. The next few chapters are all taken care of plot wise. I do believe that you will all be pleasantly surprised as to how events unfold.


	12. The Mound I

Somewhere I can belong Chapter 12

The Mound I

Rambling from Rohan: Greetings and salutations to all, this chapter could only come into being with the help of my good friend Kev. I hope you enjoy the story and I'm thinking that an interlude might be coming up soon describing the tale behind _Natures Wrath_, it's quite the fun blade, not a clever cleaver but important none the less. Well then enough of my rambling, on to the story. Sorry it took so long for the update, finals, graduation, among other things weighed heavily upon my mind and spirit. On the plus side my severe almost hatred of individuals has given me great inspiration for several future characters.

Many leagues from the besieged city of Aaron's Mill, a lone figure caught his first glimpse of what had been the sacred mound of Ehlona. Peering from the lip of a creek bed he saw the devastation, what had been a vibrant landscape now was little more than a barren wasteland. The ground was an ashen grey and the closer to the mound the bleaker the land became. It was though the land was caught in a perpetual winter, Quinn sank back into the creek bed and thought of what would have to be done,

"The mound is an ancient place of power novice, those that control it, influence the very land around it. This blight will continue to spread." His companion began to lecture.

"Well mentor, if the orcs have controlled the mound for so long why is the devastation not spread to the entire region." Quinn asked matter-of-factly to his ethereal mentor.

"What can I say novice that hasn't been said already, orcs are dumb and more importantly it takes a lot to deconsecrate a sacred place. By the way of things it looks like all that was beautiful of this place has been reduced to ash. So it would be safe to say that not much time is left, thanks to that foul abomination of a god!"

"Yeah he's a real swell foul breathing orc. So to save the day I need to kill everything on the mound and then reconsecrate it?"

"Well I would hope that you somehow manage to survive, but if you want to die in pursuit of a noble goal, far be it from me to stop you. Besides I could always use the company of another spirit bound to this world." She added while batting her eyelids

"I'll try to stay alive."

"Good, I'll hold you to it. Now move faster we need to cover as much ground as possible before we're spotted."

Not bothering to rise from the creek bed Quinn added, "Don't you mean I'm spotted mentor. I don't think that they'll be able to see you."

"I'm hurt novice. Don't you think of us as a team? Just because I am a spirit does that mean that you do not think of me as a partner? I'm not a zombie, I am a spirit held to this plane by divine mandate. That doesn't happen to everyone. I mean after all that we have been through, you wound me novice you truly wound me if I still had eyes I would be crying."

Staring at the hurt expression in the elf's ghostly face Quinn took a chance and hoped that this time what was saying was the truth and bowed, "Mentor we are a team, and I apologize for any disrespect."

"Quinn you were doing so well, and then you had to ruin it by going off and apologizing. You're getting better though, never take anything for face value, there's always something more to it."

"I see mentor. I apologize for not seeing it before."

"Also, Quinn, stop apologizing for everything, there are things that are beyond our abilities to control or influence. No matter what we do there are things we cannot influence." In the core of her being she knew that this lesson would be the most difficult for Quinn to master, and one she knew he never would. Quinn was what he was and nothing she said would change that about him. "Have you thought about how to take the mound from the orcish squatters?"

"Yes I was going to politely ask them to leave by presenting them with written documentation that they do not own the property and demand that a third party be called into mediate the situation."

"Did I hit you one to many times in the head, novice!"

"I'm not finished yet mentor."

"Oh do continue. I'm all ears as to how you are going to convince the orcs to leave."

"While they were distracted I was then going to call down lightening upon them, until all that remained were their charred remains."

"I hate to tell you this novice, but we've tried that already. It didn't work so well."

"You actually presented them with a deed?"

"Are you daft novice of course not!" Images of fleeing back to the grove filled her mind as she mentally chastised herself for a failed plan.

"I know, but there is are some gems of truth in it. We can't take on the entire group of orcs that are there. No matter how deserted it is, there has to be some sort of cleric there to, 'Keep the fires burning' and some acolytes as well. They'll overwhelm us if we try to defeat them all at once. But if we take out a group of acolytes, then one of us strikes at the cleric while the other keeps the rest of the acolytes busy. Then we team up to finish the task."

"Good plan novice, it might just work. Now then what might go wrong?"

"We're spreading our forces to thin, there is a good chance that we will not be able to join up and that each of us will be on our own. If that is the case then we do what we have to do."

"Good plan and good justification."

"I'm a restrained optimist mentor."

"Novice, what in the abyss is a restrained optimist?"

Unsheathing _Natures Wrath _and holding it in the ready position he replied, "I hope for the best but prepare for the worst."

"You really didn't have a happy childhood did you Quinn?" As she was speaking Quinn resheathed the obsidian scimitar an after a moments consideration pulled out a knotty piece of oak and uttering several words in a hushed tone, it exploded in size. "I give you a perfectly good blade and instead you grab a stick. You don't bring a stick to sword fight!"

"Ah mentor. but this is a very good stick. Great for strikes to the one, two, and six."

"What about the other 5 angles novice, a bladed weapon would serve you far better. It's a more civilized weapon and any civilized being can understand the elegance that goes with the way of the blade." She added with a smirk.

"Mentor, but why should I use a civilized weapon against orcs when since they aren't civilized and would not appreciate it."

"Novice stop using logic against me this instant." Her shrill voice pierced the early morning calm and seemingly echoed through the area. The shillelagh, nearly fell from his hand as Quinn stared in shock at his mentor. "Oops." She said while cringing.

Soon Quinn heard the sounds of rushed footfalls and harsh screams in orcish emanating from the mound. "Well novice my plan is working perfectly, the acolytes are spreading out searching. Thus leaving the mound relatively unguarded. My tactical skills know no bounds."

"Mentor, you must be the luckiest dead elf in existence."

"Well all strategy had at least a little bit of good luck."

"Stop smirking mentor, that was not planning that was just luck."

"Or a sign that Ehlona truly favors our quest." Shaking his head at her last remark, he chanced a look over the edge of the creek bed and caught sight of three orcs rushing towards the creek bed with all the grace of drunken hill giant. Spit and drool flew from their gaping maws as the beasts raced for Quinn's hiding place. Looking down at shillelagh in his hands a thousand thoughts raced through his mind. There was no more running, no more hiding from challenges. Whether he succeeded or failed no one would know and most importantly there would be no praise. Grasping the shillelagh in his right and his shield in his left and with a grin on his face, Quinn spoke a simple statement that ended the racing thoughts, "Just the way I like it."

The four orcs were unaware of Quinn's presence, they were far more concerned with avoiding the barbs of Kreigon's spear. The enraged orc had ordered them to find the source of the screech that had interrupted his chanting. They all knew that Kreigon was looking for any reason to send them to Grumush's side, or as they called it having your head ripped off and then stuck onto the altar. They all had agreed the further they were from the altar searching the better off they would be. It was then that the lead orc, saw a figure climb out of the creek bed and walking towards them. From his walk alone the leader of the three knew he wasn't an orc, and thus reacted as orcs do. Shouting something in his accursed tongue to the others. Immediately a pair of orcs grasped javelins and let them fly, while the other pair grasped their axes above their heads and screaming out to Grumush they charged the lone druid.

Quinn was not waiting idly, already druidic words were flowing from his mouth as the first of the two spells he cast began to take affect followed soon by the other. He was prepared as much as he could be and smiled as the first closed for combat. The javelins had been thrown wide and he was in no danger, raising the shillelagh in a salute to the orcs he yelled out to them as they neared, "Ehlona's Wrath hath come."

The first orc was distracted by what he had heard, the cry had been in orcish and the confusion of hearing it from one who wasn't an orc confused him. As he tried to understand what was taking place a sudden and terrible blow struck his face ending his confusion and his life in a single blow. The blow had been to much for the orcs skull to handle and it caved in around Quinn's weapon and held it firm, granting the other orc a perfect strike at Quinn.

The cut was broad and deep with blood flowing freely from his arm, the remaining orcs hollowed at the sight of fresh blood and rushed in to join the kill. The fools did not know that any animal was far more dangerous when it was hurt. Rolling away from the first orc Quinn muttered a spell through the pain and the blood flow was quickly staunched but not fully healed. The orc that had wounded was closing again. So confident of his kill that he dropped his axe to his side to move faster, Quinn rose in front of him and before the orc had the chance to raise his axe to block Quinn's strike, the beast was already following backwards never to rise again. The remaining pair held their ground shocked at the ease that their comrades had been slain, and as the druid approached them they howled out to Grumush for strength. Their god did not answer them.

Atop the mound, Kreigon, _Favored Soul of Grumush_, watched the cursed follower of Ehlona dispose of the remaining pair of orcs. Where the other orcs had worn some kind of armor, this orc wore none, everyvisible inch his body was covered with crisscrossing scars or elaborate tattoos that wove in and out of one another in a never ending series of loops. His head had been shaved bald and still more tattoos adorned his skull.

Finally, a challenge worthy of him, this was why he was ordered to remain here with these weaklings, with this one's blood he would prove his worth. Crying out to the heavens he chanted for his gods favor, and his prayers were heard. His considerable bulk grew in size and layer after layer of his god's protection fell over him. "This shall be no contest." Kreigon's voice boomed. That said he quickly began another series of prayers to his dark deity, a blast of spiritual energy darted towards Quinn while his other spell cast would not harm Quinn directly, it would cause his demise all the same.

"Well you're still alive novice, although you might want to get that cut looked at, it might become infected if its not washed and treated properly."

"Well I suppose I could lay down here for a few days while I heal naturally, I'm sure the fact that I just killed four of the orcs brethren would not endanger me at all."

"One more thing novice, I gave you sword for a reason. It's more than just a shiny blade it has powers that are beyond…." Suddenly Quinn was thrown back several feet through the air. "Hmm _Spiritual Weapon _very clever. His mentor commented with the detached tone of an observer. "Now listen to me novice pull yourself up and make him come down here to you, I suggest something big and destructive..." Her voice ended abruptly and as Quinn pulled himself up of the ground no sound came from his as well, and not from lack of trying. No matter how hard he yelled. His voice had been taken from him as well as his spell casting leaving him incredibly vulernable.

A look of utter determination came upon Quinn's face, he knew this spell, its strengths and its weaknesses. Gamgee has cast it upon him one night after he grew annoyed at his apologizing. It was ranged spell and all he had to do was to leave the area affected. Glancing backwards he saw firebrands moving closer to the mound. He would have to finish it quickly before he was overwhelmed, quickly drawing Nature's_ Wrath _Quinn cut a slash in his pack letting the soil inside flow outward in a slow stream. Shouldering the pack again he began to race up the mound leave a trail of soil in his wake, the rich brown soil stood out in sharp contrast to the dead almost ash like soil. With each step he took closer to the summit he felt his throat slowly beginning to open again and with it his voice returned.

Reaching the summit Quinn had his first real look at the orc, he was massive and both of his massive hands, which were the size of bear's paws, clutched a vile great axe dripping with a black fetid liquid of some kind. Time seemed to stand still as an eerie silence till Quinn snarling out in orcish yelled out, "You're standing on my goddess's mound."

The orc responded by gouging out a furrow of dirt with his feet, "Fool, I am Kreigon Favored Soul of Grumush, I will smite you with my god's power and feast upon your heart and adorn my altar with your hide." Yelling out battle cries in their own native tongues the two closed for combat. A wild swing by the orc was blocked by Quinn's blade but the force behind the blow nearly drove him to his knees.

"You're a disgrace to worship a woman." Kreigon screamed as their weapons were crossed."

"At least my goddess has two eyes!" Quinn yelled back.

"Your goddess is not here mine is, this is his place of power and you will die here by my hand fool." Quinn was not moved by the beasts taunting and stepped back from the stalemate, Roaring Kreigon closed the distance only to find Quinn not there, he had sidestepped the charged orc and brought his blade across his side without even being noticed. The blade had pierced the layers of protection laid upon him as if there were none, and his blood flowed from the wound freely.

"Such a wound will not slay me fool."

"Ehlona's vengeance is patient, and if it takes many cuts to slay you so it shall." As the pair resumed their duel another battle was taking place as one by one the orcs that reached the mound fell dead to a phantom. Their weapons could not slay that which was not alive and their god did not answer their pitiful prayers for aid. Time and time again a flaming blade appeared striking through armor setting another orc on fire, When the blade did not appear often an orc would simply drop to the ground lifeless without a mark or scorch upon them. As the last of them choose discretion over valor and fled for the wild, only then was a rich sylvan voice heard above the silence of the battle, "Don't die on me now novice."

Quinn and Kreigon had fallen into a pattern as their struggle brought them back and forth over the summit of the mound, blood flowed freely from both their bodies but neither would yield. Howling out to his god the orc brought the broad face side of axe toward Quinn brandishing it as though it were a club. There was no time to parry, or avoid the blow, all he could was brace his shield and hope it held, and for a brief moment it did but only a moment. The wooden shield exploded under the force of the blow casting shards into both opponents, pain flooded through Quinn as he was thrown to the ground by the force of the blow. In that instant he knew that the sickening crunch he had heard was not only the loss of his shield but that of his shield arm breaking as well.

Kreigon approached the prone druid, confident of his immenant victory, that was until he saw the druids sword arm dart out slashing through his ankles hamstringing him. His legs gave out under such a massive girth and he crashed into the ground. "How nice of you to join me down here favored soul of Grumush are you going to watch the clouds all day as well in silent contemplation of how you can worship such a failure of a god."

Kreigon halted his prayer screaming out in insult and pain, "I will feast on your entrails. I will not kill you, I will leave you begging for death as I sacrifice your crushed body to my god" The insult had brought Quinn enough time and the effects of the spell he cast were nearing completion, his arm was slowly repairing itself as bone, muscle and flesh all reknit themselves together. Quinn's shield arm no longer hung limply at his side battered and broken, some shards of the broken shield still clung to his arm but his arm was healed. Kreigon rose as well with his weight now easily supported by his repaired limbs as well.

His spells were exhausted and Quinn knew that Kreigon was far from finished, reaching back with his healed arm he drew his own scimitar he made ready to fall into the 7 count and hoped that skill alone would be enough to slay his foe. Both blades were now perpendicular to the right side of his body resembling an **F**; _Natures Wrath _in his right hand was near his hip while his own blade was near his shoulder. Kreigon wasted no time in assuming a new form he merely advanced howling out to Grumush with his blade raised high.

Not wanting to face the beast head on Quinn again sidestepped and began the seven count, he lead with his right arm as it darted out to strike at Kreigon's exposed legs, while his left simultaneously struck high aiming for his neck. Kreigon howled in fury as the first blow struck and hastily dropped the axe to block the strike to his neck, the blows were not done yet as Quinn's right blade followed through and struck the same area guarded by the hastily raised axe, before following through to join the other blade in a mirrored image of his beginning form. The fourth hit came from the left blade as is dove again for the orcs unguarded legs, scoring another shallow cut, "If I have to orc I will bleed you out a cut at a time!"

No longer waiting for an opening Kreigon struck hard and fast with an overhead swing hoping to split the druid in half only to have it blocked by _Nature's Wrath_. Darting back from the forced block, Quinn follow through with the last two strikes of the 7 count, his left blade struck for the right side of the orcs muscle thickened neck, as expected Kreigon's axe again checked the blades advance. "I see your pattern fool, I will kill you slowly." The orc spat out.

Quinn was unfazed by the proclamation and smiled as he readied the last blow; in the seconds that it took for Kreigon to utter his threat the next blow was already coming. It was from the left blade again but Quinn did not seek the same target, pulling back the blade he reversed his hold on the blade so the cutting edge was now on the other side and flipped his wrist over to strike at the other side of his neck. The thickened muscle and hide slowed the blade, but still it found the artery and blood sprayed from the wound like a crimson fountain. Screaming in rage the orc twisted away from Quinn's cruel blades and let his own gushing blood spray out and blind the druid and howling out in rage cast another spell. A force of pure malevolence threw the blinded druid away nearly to the edge of the summit where he nearly slumped to the ground before bracing himself with his blades. Seeing his foe disabled and momentarily blinded, Kreigon dropped his guard and covering wound with one of filthy hands began to utter words in orcish that rushed from his gnarled lips in a hurried prayer.

The blow had taken the breath away form him but Quinn was far from beaten, though he could see it from where he was. For a moment he wondered why he saw the world through a haze of crimson, till his mind cleared and he remembered. He heard the rushed words and knew that soon Kreigon would be healed once more and he could not let that take place. He could barely move and he had no spells left to strike back with, time froze as he considered his options that were rapidly becoming none. Unbidden a nearly forgotten memory bubbled up form the depths of something his mentor had once said, "Novice, victory in battle and in life is knowing when to take a reckless chance knowing that it all likelihood you will die." In that instant Quinn knew what he had to do, ignoring the pain he broke into an all out run with his blades leading the way. Within seconds Quinn had reached his foe and threw whatever strength he had left in a desperate lunge drawing the blades across the Kreigon's midline in hopes of disembowing the beast.

The shock on Kreigon's face was complete as he became aware of his desperate lunge. There was no way to parry or block the blows, those he would have to take but there was a counter. As the blades began to slice into him the part that delighted in the pain laughed at the exsuisite pain as they cut into him, a moment ago the strikes would have proved fatal but not anymore. Blood rushed from the parallel cuts on his and in that same instant he dropped his axe and brought both of his massive arms into a brutal bear hug of Quinn squeezing with all the divine power that flowed through him, and delighted in hearing the druid's ribs break in his grasp.

The pain was so brutal Quinn could not even black out form it. The broken shards of ribs were piercing shredding the inside of his body and in that instant he knew that he had failed his mentor, his friends, and everyone. Through pain wrecked sobs he screamed in failure.

"Where is your goddess now fool!" Kreigon ranted as he threw Quinn to the ground. His old scimitar tumbled from his now rebroken arm as he tumbled end over end. "Scream again fool, it is the sweetest music in all the land." Kreigon's voice boomed above it all. Until he heard another scream, it came from the nearly crushed shell of a human. It was no human scream it was something else, something else entirely.

Ramblings part II: The next chapter will be out much sooner than the last update I swear it. We'll be hooking back up with Gamgee, Thrack, Crystal, Barbarian - trainee, & Drunken Monk as they sortie out. Not all of them will make it back.


	13. A hope soughtA tragedy found

Somewhere I can belong

Chapter 13

A Hope sought…A tragedy found

Disclaimer: Aside from a few small things, I own nothing of this story, enjoy and please share any and all comments with me.

In chapter 11 you know what Crystal was up to, this part of the chapter picks up with the rest of the group the night before and then things move on from there.

A tired elf with bags under his bloodshot eyes stumbled down the stairs towards what he hoped would be an open bar. Without fail every time Gamgee had begun to trance for the past hour, the thunderous explosion of Brangar's snoring would awake him immediately and to top it off someone was whistling. "Whoever is whistling stop it immediately and get me a bottle of Elven Wine." He howled as he continued towards the bar. Which was mysteriously devoid of all its normal inhabitants.

"Oh this is just great, all I want is a drink is that to much to ask before I go off and in all probability am killed while trying to save a town. The whistling had grown even more in intensity, "and where is that thrice blasted whistling coming from. I swear by that." His rant ended as Gamgee was thrown across the room by the force of an explosion. Currently what had been the bar was now a very large opening, and what had been Gamgee's stool the night before was now a very big rock with orcish insults carved into it.

"Oh this is great, just great. Fricken orcs, I'm going to kill everyone last one of your thrice blasted race."

"And I'm going to help!" Janet screamed with tears gushing from her eyes.

"Janet where in the 7 hells did you come from."

The monk raised a hand pointing at what had been the bar and in a confused voice stared, "My order has been trying to answer that questions since its founding over two millennium ago."

"No you drunken monk I meant where did you come from before the explosion?" the irate wizard bellowed.

While digging through the rubble and tossing aside broken flasks and casks Janet replied, "Oh that's simple Gamgee, I was up there." Pointing to the second floor and, "Then I came down through that." She said pointing to a jagged opening in the ceiling. "That's how I got here."

"You fell through a hole in the ceiling?"

"That's right Gamgee. Now if you will excuse I am going to take this poor survivor. " Janet offered while patting a small cask of wine she had recovered from the rubble. "It's in a state of shock over the loss of so many of its kin and I know I can help alleviate that guilt. So the two of us are going to the cellar before another rock falls on us"

"Mind if I tag along Janet?"

"I'll have to ask the survivor, wait one moment." Placing the cask to her ear and after a hushed conversation. "Oh of course not Gamgee, you're a good sport and you're really funny when you're drunk." Janet began chuckling at a fond memory, "Besides I want to know more about Llumeria. What was Crystal thinking when she posed for that statue?"

Gamgee weighed his options and after a moments hesitation realizes that even if Crystal did kill him, her blade would be far less painful than staying in the same room as Brangar, that and he knew for a fact that Janet could not whistle. "Lead the way Janet, and I will tell you tales that you will never forget." That said the two made their way down a set of stair at the other end of the room laughing without a care in their world.

At another inn similar to the one where the companions where staying, but not under bombardment, a figure was easily carrying another figure in full armor towards the brightly lit entryway. The crowds inside parted for him. They had seen what happened to a group of elves that had gone to far with him some days ago and they knew his story well enough, and they knew of the Rhetwani.

"What's the problem Thrack, another one of your friends get banged up out there?" Asked a dwarf with an apron proudly proclaiming 'Dwarves came first!' Just the other day he had carried a muscle bound half orc wrapped in bandages up those very same stairs. What startled them all was the fact this person was an elf. The barkeep was aghast with shock, so much so that he dropped a bottle. Not wishing to cause a scene and cause further damage to his bar, he hurried over to Thrack whispering in hushed tones as he helped carry the elf up the stairs much as he had done with the half orc, "You're not going soft are you Thrack?"

Nodding his thanks for help he answered in dwarven, "Gloin asked me to do a favor for him, and this is part of the favor."

"I see then. Well you'll be happy to know that your brother is getting better, I had to tie him to his bed to keep him out of the fight." Brumer added with a chuckle.

Thrack's eyes lit up and after a moment joined in the laugh as well, "That's my brother for you."

Within moments the two had made their way to Thrack's room and after a mutual heave ho, the duo had dumped the elf onto the bed, as they both panted for breath. Brumer wiped a hand across his sweat stained brow before adding, "That is one heavy elf, and I don't care what shape she's in I wouldn't want to pick a fight with her even if she didn't have any armor on."

"A dwarf scared of an elf, now I've heard of everything." Thrack replied.

"Oh, I'm not scared of her." Brumer answered puffing out his enormous beer gut, "Why in my prime I could have taken down an entire clan of elves in combat. But she's one of them weird Heronoius worshiping elves. Those elves know how to fight." Seeing the tension no longer hung between the two, the bartender dared to ask a questions that had long been on his mind. "If you don't mind me asking this Thrack, could you tell me why you and your brother have the same name? I just don't understand it?"

"I'm named in honor of him, he found me abandoned in the wild. I'll tell you more over a meal Brumer."

"Well come on then, dinner is ready and i'm not getting any younger." The dwarf latched onto Thrack's arm and proceeded to drag him downstairs. The bar was still busy, but one of Brumer's kin had taken over and then pair wre given a wide berth by those that remembered what happened to the elves the other night. A large meal and several cups later Thrack had related his tale to Brumer. The dwarf now understood everything there was to know about Thrack and then some. "Moradin take that elf that did that to you and use em for an anvil."

"I agree wholeheartedly Brumer, but not until I find them."

Back at the Blue Boar, Brangar continued to sleep blissfully unaware of the deluge of boulders raining, near, around, and sometime in the inn. He was content to snore loudly confident that it would cause the wizard some grief, unknown to him that same wizard was discussing the meaning of life with Janet and a cask of wine. Regardless of where they were, or whom they found themselves with, they all found some semblance of rest and in the hours leading up predawn each returned to the _Blue Boar_. Some under their own power, and others needing assistance. The throwing of the remnants of the doors of their hinges by a stout dwarf announced he presence of Gloin Ironbeard. Soot clung to him like a second skin, and what remained of his silver beard was singed, and in some cases still smoking.

"Good you're all here, now you have one chance at this."

Gamgee interrupted, "Excuse Commander Gloin. Were we not to meet you by the Gate of Moradin?"

"We don't have time, and I can't risk the chance of one of you getting hit by a flying boulder or arrow. This is our one chance and if it all goes to Hades we're done for." The commander retorted. "Now before I was so roudly interrupted, if it looks like the orcs are going to take the tunnel, I will not hesitate to blow the tunnel. You're some of the best we got up on the wall, but no one is worth that much." Glancing around at the group he saw that there was no shock on any of their faces, they knew their mission and would succeed or die trying, for that he was glad and he prayed to Moradin that his gamble would pay off and not lose any in this room. The city could not afford the losses. "My cousin will show you the way and he'll be at the kill switch at the exit, you got a while yet till dawn so if you need any fancy preparation to get yourself up to fighting you better get it done now. One more thing, good luck and come back alive." That said the Commander of the Gate of Moradin walked wearily out of the tavern back to the fighting.

The calm that had existed mere moments before vanished as each began to do what it would take to prepare for the coming trial. They would have surprise on their side, just a simple raid to destroy some catapults and trebuchets, but any number of things could go wrong. Peering up from his spell book, Gamgee idly commented, "You know if Quinn was here, he would say something about being a restrained optimist."

Crystal ended her prayer adding, "Then he would add, 'Gamgee please be certain to prepare to cast fireball in our combat today.'"

The bizarre sounds of bones cracking and cartildege popping ceased as Janet added in turn, "Then there would be something about him volunteering to go first or some idiotic chivalry thing like that."

"Remember when we all thought he was some paladin that couldn't afford a warhorse because he kept giving things away and refusing credit for his deeds? What did you tell him Crystal?"

"Oh I don't remember exactly Gamgee, something about that it is our divine mission to improve the world and to shut up and take the credit he was due. Then he goes and says eloquently as he can that, 'His god did not require that.' Then I went on about what type of paladin are you, no mount, and no decent armor. Then he goes, 'I'm not a paladin, I'm a follower of Ehlona…a druid. Whatever made you think I was a paladin?' He is without a doubt the most messed up druid that I have ever met, I spent a week trying to convert him to being a paladin but he would hear none of it.

"He thought you were trying to brainwash him or hold some sort of exorcism!" Janet yelled out between a fit of laughter.

"I was not trying to brainwash him. I was merely trying to objectively show him how he would better serve the world as a paladin in the service of Heronious."

"Crystal you were going to tie him to a chair before we got attacked by those little thingys." The barbarian stated while doting yellow paint on his faces and arms.

"You mean that goblin tribe Brangar?"

"Yeah, those little things. Thanks Janet."

"Anytime big guy."

"Well if you're all done with your trot down memory lane, its time to go." Bellowed a dwarf with just a few tuffs of hair growing off his chain, amiss a sea of blisters and scarred tissue. "And for the record little miss high and mighty, my beard is growing back just fine." That said the jovial settings was abandoned as they made ready to leave the broken shell of an inn, then they saw Thrack.

They all looked at him with a mixture of shock and awe, while they were chatting about their missing friend he had made himself busy with his own tasks. His face, armor, and sword were covered with a bizarre series of dark blue tattoos. Some were simple swirls while others were far more elaborate, often looping back and forth several times. All of the lines lead to a massive knot centered above his heart. In contrast to Brangar's simple broken line tattoos, they were aghast at the artwork till their dwarven guide broke the silence. "It you're done staring we got orcs to kill." No one else spoke a word while their guide lead them through debris strewn streets and collapsed buildings. They each realized that the city would not be able to survive much longer. Finally, they reached a building with a sign proudly proclaiming, _The Fat Happy Halflings Bakery Emporium_.

"Oh you got to be kidding me." Gamgee began.

"Move it book boy or I'll use you as a shield when the next barrage begins." Their guide retorted. The building was quite large, easily two stories and every inch of space had piles of dirt, piled upon it. Brangar was idly kicking large clumps of dirt and stone to amuse himself, until one stone he kicked collided with a large pile that suddenly began to swear in garbled dwarven, and shake wildly flinging dirt in all directions.

Brangar cried out in shock, "The dirt is screaming." And he frantically began to draw his bardiche to strike the supposed living pile of ground. Gamgee was shouting out something about an earth elemental and that his spells were ready for large scale destruction and nothing like banishing Several moments later and few pounds of thrown dirt later a very dirty dwarf was revealed surrounded by a nervous group of adventurers some with weapons drawn.

"Bout time you got here, the tunnel is as done as its going to get and the charges are all set, just pull the string as the exit and you'll have about 20 seconds before the explosions begin, and every 20 seconds latter another goes off. Now if you excuse…." He began, noticing the number of drawn weapons facing him. Casually he pushed Brangar's drawn bardiche aside, "Put that away before you hurt yourself. The tunnels done Olaf and the charges have been set. I'm going to have a mug of ale, a chunk of beef, and go kill some orcs." That said the pile of dirt that was a dwarf as he exited the building not caring about the barrage of rocks falling from the skies.

"I wasn't going to hurt myself. I wasn't. You believe me right Gamgee""

"I know you wouldn't, but that dwarf doesn't know you like I do. Let's just let it go for now Brangar."

After their encounter with the very dirty dwarf the group moved in silence being lead by Olaf further and further down passageways until they finally they found themselves in the basement after traveling down a broad set of stairs that had groaned under the collective weight of armor and arms. Several of the steps actually had broken under the weight of Crystals scale mail and several bad jokes about her weight were quickly ended by her glare of death. Until at last a dark tunnel loomed before them beckoning them onward. Suddenly, another dwarf wearing goggles and little else save dirt thrust a pair of glowing longswords into the hands of Crystal and Gamgee.

"We couldn't risk torches what with the explosives and the chance of gas, these will serve you far better, and if you bring them back covered in orc blood why I'll let you keep them for free. Now don't worry if a bit of the ceiling falls down on top of you while you're moving that just means the catapults are hitting outside of the city. Which is good for the city but bad for you, Ah Moradin take my blasted tongue I can't say anything inspirational to save my hide." The dwarf babbled. "Don't die, that's the best I can do. Good luck to ya. I'll be waiting her by this end till you get back, my no good thrice cheating brother won the toss and he get to go kill orcs on the wall, while I'm stuck here babysitting a tunnel."

"And a fine tunnel it is. Why I bet it's the finest tunnel that's ever been built in such a day and a half." Olaf boasted slapping him on the back. The cloud of dust blinded everyone for a moment, but through the cloud they heard other dwarven voices.

"Aye, we're good." A Dwarven voice roared.

"Yes, yes we are." A second called back. As the dust, cleared piles of dirt were quickly being shaken off to reveal exhausted dwarven miners, their beards caked in grime, who were congratulating one another on such a well built tunnel. Suddenly a bottle was being passed around and then another followed by another until it seemed as though every pile of dirt was holding onto a bottle and singing out ballads to the Dwarven gods. Janet was inching away from the group and was about to lunge for a bottle until Crystal grabbed her from behind and carried the struggling monk back to the tunnel where the rest of the group awaited them.

"Well Crystal I would go first but as the age old saying goes, 'Heavily armed and armored ladies and barbarians first, fireball throwing mages third."

"Har har Gamgee. I just hope your aim is better than it was up there."

"I'll have you know my aim was impeccable."

"Then why did you blow up the cow?"

"To prevent the orcs from taking it. Scorched earth policy."

Can we just get in the creepy tunnel lined with explosives now!" Brangar roared.

With Gloin's nephew Olaf in the lead, followed by Crystal, Thrack, Brangar, Gamgee, and Janet taking up the rear, the group slowly made their way through the hastily constructed tunnel. The sound of the jubilant dwarves soon vanished as they marched further and further away until there was only silence. After almost ten minutes spent trudging on in silence Janet broke the silence, "Crystal, why is your sculpture called _the warrior maiden of the endless hair'_ Gamgee was pretty drunk when he told the story to me last night and I couldn't make it all out." Gamgee subsequently gulped as beads of sweat quickly became rivers.

Crystal only offered a short answer in reply, "Gamgee you and I are going to have another one of our talks after we get back from this little excursion." Her voice dropped several octaves, "A very long talk about things that should not be spoken of."

"I'm never getting drunk with you again Janet!"

"Oh don't be such a fraidy cat Gamgee. Besides I'll protect you from the big bad scary elf paladin."

Amidst the banter and death threats Thrack finally spoke, but it uttered so softly that none heard it, "Fricken fracking elves!"

Olaf stopped at the tunnel ended in front of him with a small barrel with a short fuse leading away from it. Suddenly vibrations began to shake the tunnel and a shower of dirt began to fall upon them. "All right stow it all of you, we're here at the end. Now to alarm you but I'm going to use a small barrel of explosive to blast us through to the surface."

Gamgee commented idly, "Let me get this straight, you're going to use explosives in a tunnel lined with explosives to punch through to the surface?"

"Pretty much so, do you have a problem with that book boy?" Olaf snarled back.

Shrinking back several steps Gamgee replied, "I'm all right if everyone else is all right with it. What do you think everyone?" A chorus of okays, some half hearted some genuine soon followed.

"Good because I already lit the fuse. I suggest everyone duck behind their shields and cover their ears, because it's going to be loud very soon."

Meanwhile, several feet above them an orc was arguing with three goblins about their tasks. The orc grew so enraged by the questioning of his orders he roared out, "Grumush rip me apart if I am wrong." Seconds later the goblins were witness to in what was in their eyes was a divine miracle as their fat overseer dissolved before their very eyes in a blast of fire and light.

"That's right book boy and you might want to duck because I just set it." The dwarf commented idly. Seconds later a tremendous flash of light appeared for a brief moment followed by a horrific noise and then daylight streamed through a large opening and a group of startled goblins who were dancing around cheering for some reason. The catapults were in front of them ripe for the exploding as the work crews mostly goblins scattered to find weapons. Gamgee quickly began to evoke a fireball and everything was going to go perfect, or so they thought. None of them had an inkling as to what was going to happen next

On top of the battle scared and scorched Gate of Moradin Gloin stood defiantly refusing to take cover behind the parapets. His eyes were scanning the Orc positions for some hint of success a wisp of smoke or the carcass of an orc flying through the air, something meaning that the gambit was working. The signal that they had breeched the surface had taken place what seemed like a life time ago, but in all reality had only been a few minutes ago. Several more moments of worrying and then came the explosions. "It worked I knew it would. I'll give each of those sorry bastards a metal for this." Then he saw the ground above the tunnel begin sag and drop down several feet forming a trench. As the minutes passed by the trench slowly spread from the siege line to the wall. "What in the name of the Soulforger is going on down there." Batting aside his soldiers he sprinted the distance from the gate to the tunnel, regardless of whom he barreled over he did not cease his run till he was again at, _The Fat Happy Halflings Bakery Emporium_. Emerging from the battered storefront were 5 of the six that had gone through the tunnel. None had emerged unscathed as they were all bleeding from multiple wounds and caked with dirt. After a moment of tense silence one finally spoke in elven accented common, the statement carried more weight then a mithril coated battering ram, "They have tunnels running under the wall, that's where they got the dirt for that barricade. They'll be done soon and when they are they'll come in right underneath the walls."

Lines of worry had formed in Gloin's face as he began, "What about…"

The same voice answered again, "Didn't make it. Fool set off the charges after a break formed in the line. Orcs were a hairs breath behind us, durn fool died saving us all." The tense situation was broken by the sound of renewed combat as the orcs again began to attack. Gloin's attention was drawn back to the group when the same voice asking, "Permission to rejoin the line Commander."

Gloin was aghast at what he had just heard, they had gone through hell and still were willing to go back to the line. "As long as the walls stand there is hope. I'll do what I can to prepare barricades and what not, you did what you could and that was all that you could do. Moradin's blessings go with all of ya." That said the weary group made their way back to the wall to defend it to their last, their thoughts however drifted to the missing member who had sacrificed their life to save theirs. "Nephew I need you to run to the other commanders and to the citadel and apprise them of the situation." The younger Ironbeard merely nodded and set off for the other gates.

Well beyond the orcish siege lines to the southwest a lone scout was reporting to a lady covered from head to toe in a dark fabric of some kind, all that was visible of her were bright yellow eyes that darted back and forth among her subordinates as she issued her commands. There was no questioning of her orders, she knew that her soldiers would follow her every whim. Such was the power she wielded over them, her failure to apprehend the heir had cost her much and only his return, whole and unharmed would allow here to reclaim her lost position and nothing would stand in her way. Camp was broken and the three score riders set off for the besieged city. Very few would have recognized their banner save for Clovis and those that had seen a cartouche that hung around Quinn's neck.

Ramblings from Rohan part II:

Wow a really long chapter, and in such a short time. Kind of makes me feel like riverdancing. I apologize, but I have Boondock Saints on my mind and it is influencing me in ways I do not even notice. I hope you enjoyed this and are looking forward to the next installment. I thought about putting the battle in, but I thought a recap from the characters perspective would be a better choice for it. Please review and let me know if my poor attempt at writing is keeping you entertained.


	14. Crux of the Matter

Chapter 14

The Crux of the Matter

Greetings all, sorry about the delay, but here is the latest chapter and the next will be here in about a week I hope. Once more nothing belongs to me and I hope you enjoy the latest chapter.

It is often said that if only commanders had a great view of the battle, such as what bird might see soaring above the battlefield that the tide of any battle could change. Such was the case at the siege of Aaron's Mill, where many hulking birds and lizards circled the battle from on high viewing the battle to its tiniest detail, from the desperate raid to the mass blessing of a legion of orcish warriors. These beasts were not majestic eagles or the other great birds of prey, no these were carrion eaters, guided by the stench of the slain… they were there to feast.

Very few knew how desperate the situation was for the embattled defenders, the siege had only lasted two days and many were optimistic at the start of the third…save for a dwarven commander and a battered company of adventures who had in secret left to strike a crippling blow against the enemies siege weapons, it was a partial success. They had returned all save one of their group who had been buried as he collapsed the tunnel to prevent its capture. They had achieved something but, in their hearts and minds they knew they had only postponed the inevitable. It showed in their walk, their heads were stooped as they wearily moved towards the wall,

Watching them approach the walls was Clovis, a contradiction in terms if ever there was one. The half-orc bard was singing an elvish lullaby to a wounded soldier. With merely the smallest portion of his immense strength he raised the wounded elf to a waiting carriage to move her away from combat, though not necessarily a safer place. His multicolored cloak had been stained with blood and grime, but there was laughter in his voice as he burst out, "Well at least Nerull isn't squatting on the walls." It was then that he saw Gamgee and the others making their way back to the wall.

"I saw Gamgee, stellar job out there all of you. I saw that quite spectacular fireball light up the morning sky out there." Gamgee, looked at him with a haggard expression but no words came. The same look was evident on the other three as well. Acting quickly Clovis ushered the group into his library, scrolls and books lay nestled in neat orderly alcoves that ran along the walls. The one item that was not a book or scroll in the library was a colossal bardiche that was mounted on the far wall. Natural light flowed in from a vast sky roof made of glass so clear that to the untrained eye it appeared as there was no nothing separating the room from the sky Ushering the four adventures into the room he shut the door after them and facing. They all had a look of defeat and hopelessness upon them

Gamgee minced no words as he told of the battle, ht swift destruction of the catapults, and then the discovery of the tunnels. "They're everywhere Clovis, with wards that I can't even begin to describe. I couldn't collapse any of them, my magic failed against them. All thats left to do is die well I guess." That said the dejected elf let his head slump and hopelessness take over. Sparing glances around the table, Clovis saw the same looks on the three companions as well.

"What a lord of dragon dung. I don't care if the avatar of Grumush is out there with that host, as long as we have the will to fight this city will not fall. Remember that Gamgee, all of you. Thrack hated elves because of what had happened to him, yet he ran down that tunnel to save everyone that is in this city, everyone. We fight for what we believe in and I for one will not let all that I have built be lost to the ages because some stinking thrice blasted invaders from the wastelands." Spit was flying from the half orcs gaping maw as his words echoed through the room.

"Look at yourselves, you think this battle is over because of some tunnels? Your battle was not the deciding one, those take place far from where we expect them to take place."

Shaken by the librarians brash manner the group began to rise, the look of defeat was off of their faces, and grim determination was seeping back in.

"To give up now would be a grave dishonor to all of those that have fallen before us." Crystal uttered while rising.

"Its only Orcs, so what they can't win a battle aboveground just because they have stupid tunnels." Brangar answered.

"If am struck down in this world then in the next life I shall return to avenge this life, though it may take several years of intense meditation and then there is the matter of finding my way back here. Of course by then all my foes very well may be dead of any number of causes, however…"

"For the love of Waukem, Janet we get the point already, I'm not out of spells yet so lets see what good we can do." One by one they rose from the table, paladin, barbarian, wizard, and monk, all with their faces set n grim determination. The librarian watched them move and wished he could join them, but his abilities with his blade that had won him his wealth had faded from memory and he doubted he would do much good at the walls, besides he was needed here to care for those who were wounded. Grabbing another roll of cloth Clovis moved to return to the dying to cheat death a few more times, if he was lucky.

All across of the city tunnel openings appeared and from within came their vile constructors c tunnels past the wall broke through the Oaths and curses in a dozen languages accompanied the ear numbing pounding of steel against steel as blades clashed against one another to form a maelstrom of complete and utter bedlam. The orcs swarmed out from their tunnels like a horde of ants rolling over barricades and resistance regardless of their own losses, but they could not link up with the other tunnels. In the western ward of Aaron's Mill fighting raged through the zocallo as blood of both orc and the goodly races fell upon wares from throughout the known world. All of that was nothing compared to the fighting that raged around and on top of the gates. Though the orcs had penetrated the walls with their tunnels but they cold not overwhelm the defenders.

The orcs climbed on ropes, ladders, or the stacked piles of their own dead to reach the beleaguered defenders, such was their hatred of those that had profaned their god by dwelling within sight of their dwellings, and nowhere was the struggle fiercer than at the gates of the Dwarven gods. Orcish spells, and projectiles crashed into the dwarven wrought stonework and the spell laden gate. A never-ending stream of reinforcements and casualties were brought to and from the gate, but all they could do was to hold the beasts in check.

The Orcs were throwing everything that they had against the gates and leaving the walls relatively alone, there tunnels were contained inside the city, and the siege weapons that the orcs had were gone. It would be madness to leave the walls to sortie out and battle the orcs outside the city walls, even at the rate the orcs were being slaughtered they still had numbers on their side, but there was something that was missing that troubled Gloin. His revelry was broken by a sudden realization…there were no orcish clerics at the gates. For all the orcs out there dying, clerics should have been there rallying the horde. "Where by the soul forger are you cowardly one eyed worshipers?"

"Talking to yourself is not a good idea by little bearded friend." A bloodstained elven bard replied.

"Well it's the only way I can have an intelligent conversation Elindil."

Far away from the gate, a circle of Orcish clerics prayers booming with power rose above the clamor of battle, as their chant grew in strength the ground itself trembled and rose as though it were a wave and crashed into the now weakening spell ward walls. For a moment it seemed as though the walls would hold as the enchantment held…but for only a single heart-retching moment. The wall buckled and bowed inward with each consecutive wave till in a tremendous explosion leaving a gap large enough that a terrasque could walk through. A pure and unbroken silence hung for countless seconds…until the remnants of the wall came crashing down from the sky, and a gutteral cry of triumph rose from the orcish ranks as they abandoned the gate to surge for the gap.

"To the gap you dirty retches of my sister's daughter, get to the gap or we're all vittles for some ugly orc!" Gloin screamed out.

"Aren't all orcs ugly sir?" A familiar elven bard said between breaths.

"Elindil now is not the time for jokes!"

"I know I know my short little friend." Elindil called back as she moved as only an elf could, and soon Gloin was falling behind as his much swifter companion rushed further and further ahead with each step.

Between gulps of air he screamed out, "Freaking fraking long limbed thrice blasted elves!"

"Don't worry I'll save a few for them if you hurry Gloin." Elindil answered between bouts of laughter. In a few minutes the bard had reached the edge of the wall just as the orcs were beginning to climb out of it. "Oh what perfect times to have a fine elven compound long bow." The days of ceaseless action had no effect upon her aim and soon the hum of her bow filled the air as one after another orc fell to her lethal accuracy. The first wave was already dead and she began to draw here bow back further to take aim at the next wave…until a horrendous noise broker her reveries as the draw string of her bow was sheared in half. The orc that was responsible was shaking its bow in triumph and readying another shot…until a dagger magically appeared in its neck. "Should have taken the second shot instead of gloating about it you dumb orc."

Glancing back Elindil saw the dwarves would never reach in time, and the next wave of orcs was nearing the edge of the crater. "Oh this would make a great ballad, a shame I won't be there to sing it." With a grin on her face and her rapier in her hand Elindil leapt on top of the leading orc, the pair tumbled down into the crater, Whether by luck, skill, or the divine favor of the gods themselves the pair of mortal enemies barreled into the remainder of the second wave and knocking back into the bottom of the crater where they all were intertwined in broken huddle of bodies.

Elindil crawled on her hands and knees out of the wriggling piles of orcs, their hands grasped at her rending her armor and tearing her flesh…but they could not hold the blood and grime slickened elf. She sprang upon the pile and drove her rapier into the wriggling mass of bodies again and again till at last there was no more movement. Elindil. "Well maybe I will sing that ballad after all." That was before she turned around and saw the next group of orcs rushing down the crater towards her, seeing this she began to swear in elvish and dryly spat out, "Oh this was predictable."

Elindil frantically wove her hands in an intricate pattern frantically trying to cast a spell before they were upon her. The results were far from what she had intended as a mud creature of some kind exploded upward from the crater floor. "How did I do that?" She watched in bizarre fascination as the mud creature threw itself at the orcs, with its longer arm the beast parried away spear thrusts and with its shorter arm it grasped the leading orc by the neck and squeezed the life from it.

The second wave was dead in a matter of minutes but the third was nearing the crater at a dead sprint, and the dwarves and moving as fast as their short legs could move. It was a race, one that offered only death…but the mud creature would not wait it began to walk with a steady pace to the onrushing orcs.

"Mud beast, stop I command you. No don't go out of the crater, wait here. Don't you walk away from me, I don't know how I created you but you stop right now or I'll uncreate you. All right I don't know how to do that either. At least wait for me." Scooping a quiver and bow from the pile of slain orcs she followed her 'creation' into the fray.

Ramblings from Rohan:

Sorry it took so long to post this but I have no free time any more. But this story will be finished I've got some crazy ideas and I want to use them. Pease any comments will be appreciated.


	15. The Mound II: Blood on the Mound

Somewhere I can Belong

Chapter 15

The Mound II: Blood on the Mound

Rambling from Rohan: Greetings one and all, as promised even early, not even one week later and here is the latest installment, I thought I would be good to Quinn since I have not continued his tale in some time. Well once more I do not own anything D&D related and on with the tale.

There is a point that when your body is injured enough that you collapse into shock and no longer feel anything regardless of the wounds received, and then there is something beyond…when your body is completely engulfed in ravaged pain and there is no end to it. That was what Quinn felt as his broken body tumbled end over end across the mound. He begged for release for all consuming numbness to take him…but it would not, he was aware of every second that brought him untold anguish. After what seemed like an age he stopped tumbling and lay face down on top the mound at just the right angle to see Kreigon approach. There was nothing left to give, no last chance to pluck victory from the jaws of defeat, no escape to fight another day, this was the end. Quinn did the only thing he could do, he screamed in defiance but the words came out as earth shattering roar and not the retching cough he expected, and he began to feel himself rising up off the ground. His body was not his own anymore but rather something different.

Below the mound a dead but not undead elf floated followed a trail of spilt dirt and blood up the slope, the power of Grumush pushed against her barring her path at every movement…but she would not relent, then she heard the roar and knew what was to happen. "It is awake. What I would give to see the look on that doomed orcs face."

Kreigon advanced slowly, he wanted to forever preserve this image of triumph in his mind for all eternity, he would flay the skin off the wretched creature for a belt and offer up the cursed black blade to Grumush sure of himself, the druid lay nearly dead upon his mound, truly this was a sign from Grumush that he was destined for great things, then the druid began to convulse. The orc began to close the distance between the two, his every thought was on caring out his boast and he truly hoped the druid could cling to life for a few more moments. As he neared the body and his prize Kreigon could only watch dumbfounded as the entire sword began to dissolve and meld with the broken druid, and suddenly his victim was growing larger muscles bulging many times their normal size, bones elongating, thick coarse fur covered him now, and many obsidian dark teeth and claws reached for him as the druid arose again to renew combat.

"What you must change your form to fight me. I bested you before ad I shall do so again foul worshipper of a woman!" Kreigon's taunts had no effect on Quinn.. he was well beyond the stage of reason. He was now _Nature's Wrath _given form and nature does not listen well. The black bear advanced on Kreigon slashing ferociously with one massive paw then another, and they pierced his divine defenses just as easily as when they had been a sword.

Kreigon's increasingly desperate swings could not strike the bear as it merely batted the blows aside, while he barely stayed away from the massive paws. Time and time again Kreigon had dodged those massive paws till a massive backhand flung Kreigon back against his won altar….and Kreigon favored Soul of Grumush knew fear.

Kreigon frantically scrambled backwards till he was against the altar stone, throwing his axe away he grasped it with both bloodied hands and screamed out, "Great Grumush grant me strength to smite this abomination." The beast that had been Quinn advanced upon as every muscle in Kreigon's body strained to pry up the very altar of Grumush as a weapon, rivers of sweat ran down the orcs body and muscles pulled apart and broke under the strain, but with a final gut wrench scream the altar came loose. Grasping the toppled altar with the strength of a fanatic he raised it above his head with quivering arms to cast it at his hated enemy…it was to no avail as the bear had closed distance and mercilessly tear into the undefended torso gutting the orc like a trout.

For a moment Kreigon it seemed as though he was unaffected at the loss of his chest, but whatever strength had allowed the orc to lift the altar fled like the mist before a blazing sun, the altar stone came crashing down upon the gutted orc smashing his head like an ice giant stepping on a chicken egg. His limbs twitched for a scant moment then ceased their quivering. The bear that had been Quinn stood atop the toppled altar and let a victory roar before collapsing just inches away from its enemy. Slowly the muscle mass and bones shrunk to return Quinn to his original near death form with _Nature's Wrath_, clutched in a bloodied hand and surrounded by lilies breaking through the dead earth.

For the first time in decades life returned to the mound, white lilies sprang upward wherever Quinn's blood had fallen. Green shoots radiated outward from the bloody trail, till they reached the body of Kreigon, there the wave of life was stopped and forced back as a dark cloud of smoke rose from the crushed orc. The shadowy tentacles of smoke soon formed into a single shapeless cloud, ever so slowly it began to form a single cenral eye and where its gaze fell death followed. Soon the surging tide of life was being burned back by the presence of such a purely malignant entity. Ever so slowly the eye drifted toward Quinn's helpless body only to find its path blocked by an interloper. It was not the fallen druids mentor but rather something else entirely, a massive phantom wolf.

It was easily 5 foot tall at the shoulder with a sleek muscular build and gleaming teeth and claws. With a howl that shook the pillars of Heaven and the pits of Avenrus the wolf sprang forward tearing into the eye. The eye desperately turned its lethal gaze to the interloper but the wolf dodged at the last moment and sprang upon the eye again tearing into it with its ethereal claws and teeth. Under the wolfs relentless onslaught it soon it lost its form completely becoming a shapeless cloud, but the vengeful sprit of a dead orc would not relent and refused to depart gracefully. Dozens of smaller eyes formed upon the cloud lashing out with all the hate, anger, and fury that Kreigon had possessed in life.

While the servants of their gods battled Quinn was drifting closer and closer to true death till he heard a voice. It was not a gentle one. "Novice! What are you doing lying there? Get up, rise up once more, your task is not done! You must say the prayer of reconscration, otherwise all of this if for naught!"

Quinn tried to ignore it the wrathful voice of his mentor, letting himself drift deeper and deeper into the darkness, but he would find no sanctuary from the howling voice of his mentor. "Say the words novice, move your mouth and say the words or I swear that all that is green and goodly in this world I will hound your through the afterlife and drag you back to this plane a piece at a time!"

Driven by fear he tried, he truly did. Blood, bile and saliva leaked from Quinn's mouth as he tried to speak, but no words came forth. Quinn's mind could not focus through the pain to speak the prayers that would reclaim the mound and save him, and no threat could force him to do so. Through their connection he shared with his mentor Quinn wearingly resigned, "It hurts too much I can't do it, I just can't, I've failed you like I've failed everyone else." With those words Quinn ceased his struggle and fell deeper into oblivion.

At that moment the elf that was dead but not undead truly saw him for what he was, and something cracked inside of her, and she did the only thing that she could think of and plunged into the depths of his soul, frantically trying to save one who did not wish to be saved. Deeper and deeper Quinn continued to fall, at every turn he was reminded with visions of his failures and faults. Towering images of those he could not save judged him from above, hurling barbs and condemnations down upon him. They would not relent in their bombardment and only one path was before him and it lead deeper and deeper into the darkness.

In a cold and dark place of abandonment that Quinn had drifted into something was happening to him. No longer did he feel cold and alone, a warm embrace encircling him and tears falling upon him, and an eternally sad voice from somewhere. "Please don't leave me alone here. I can't bear it anymore Quinn. Don't die this easily, think of the words Quinn. In this place it is enough, our goddess bled here, as did you to reclaim this sacred place. Think of the words and they will be." The images of his failures were beat back with memories of the good that he had done, a bad song composed by a young bard drove away horrific looking visages of his family. Gamgee, Gloin, Janet, and Crystal struck down monsters of his own creation, but first and foremost among them was a gigantic ancient winter wolf that the darkness fled from in complete and utter fear. From what had been a dark place of hopelessness Quinn remembered the words of the prayer, and by all rights no voice should have come from his broken body, but they did come, half muttered and poorly pronounced, but each came with more and more power behind them until the last words of the prayer boomed with the power of a god.

Outside of Quinn's tortured psyche a similar battle was being waged," With every slash of its claws, and bite from its fangs the cloud shrank its size, only to reform and continues the battle. When the eyes proved ineffective, it formed all matter of jagged claws and spikes to strike back at the wolf, but still they could not strike it, nor did they protect it from the strikes of the wolf… for few things in any plane of existence can withstand the wrath of a mother who finds one her children harmed. Just as Quinn's prayer was being gurgled out, the wolf fell upon the shapeless mass again with renewed fury and this time it was different. Every strike and tear was not healed. Wriggling obsidian tentacles bristling with spikes were torn away leaking putrid smoke, slaws and talons were shredded leaving only misty threads, and the wretched eyestalks were savagely ripped away leaking black ooze from the ruined sockets. With every strike the cloud became smaller and smaller until the last remnants of Kreigon's wrathful spirit withered away into nothingness under the horrible onslaught. For a timeless moment nothing happened, and then the wolf once more let out another earth shattering howl.

The howl it grew louder and louder echoing through the dead trees and cold cairn stones and across the plain, other wolves added their own cries…it was a message sent hurtling with the speed and the subtlety of a summer storm as it raced across the land. Even among the clash of battle it could be heard…but only precious few could understand. An ancient bedridden human, a mere shell of the man that he had once been with thin wiry hair the color of snow had heard it, and for the first time in years he rose unaided. Strength pulsed through wiry muscles and frail bones and he began to walk, his first steps were awkward as he slowly remembered how to but with each stride it became easier and more fluid. With a cry of unbridled glee he raced across the room to open a cabinet that the insides had not seen the light of the sun in years, inside rested a immaculately crafted great bow over 6 feet long and quivers bustling with arrows that more enchantments then could be counted. He had heard the sounds of conflict, the cries of the wounded and the howls of the dying, after all this time he would serve as he should have so long ago. Clad only in a think nightshirt and his ragged beard the ranger threw open the door of his room and raced up a spiraling stairway, taking steps three or sometimes even four at a time, till he at last reached the roof.

He was not alone for other archers were already there firing missiles of all kinds as the retched invaders. Upon the old man arrival there was shock and disbelief, many thought him to be mad because of his dress and his bright gleaming smile as he walked towards the edge of the roof. He only spoke a single sentence to the frantic stares and questioning looks, "Ehlona has returned, let all who fear her wrath tremble."

A Halfling standing on a barrel took a moment between shots to yell our concerned, "Get back below gramps before you hurt yourself."

Another added through blackened teeth, "You'll only die quicker up here you old coot get out of here, but leave the arrows and that fancy bow for me I'll put em to good use." Then they watched dumbfounded as he bent a bow as large as himself and let the first of three arrows fly. One struck a howling berserker orc with such force that it pinned the beast to the ground, another impaled a worg that immediately burst into a blue ball of fire, and the third arrow struck a fat orcish cleric through the sternum, immediately he began to convulse and smoke sprang form his eyes as he was burned from the inside out. The old man stopped to draw another set of arrows and locked gazes with stunned archers, but all he did was repeat what he had said before with the same downbeat tone, as he drew his aim again and resumed his bombardment, "Ehlona has returned, let all who fear her wrath tremble."

The leader of the archers regained her senses and jubilantly exclaimed, "She could not have picked a better time. Double time it lads, that old man from 111 is doing all our work for us. Take aim and fire!"

On a hill some distance away from the battle a group of horsemen watched the battle with the detached interest that only professional soldiers could possess they did not care how the battle went but they each paid careful attention as to how it may play out. They did not care about the loss of life, or the sheer amount of blood being spilled, but the howling that was something else entirely… it unnerved them. They talked amongst themselves as to what it might be, a portent of the gods perhaps but of what? Some thought that it was the cry of a horde of worgs racing to join the battle; still others thought it to be the cry of worgs fleeing the battle.

The two groups argued back and forth but they would not raise their voices above a whisper not would they raise their weapons; their mistress would brook no distractions as she communed with her spider goddess. They hated her down the deepest core of their spirits, but all were afraid of her and the power of the artifacts that she wielded aside from her own power. They were bound to her will and they had no choice save to follow where she commanded, such was the price for the safety of their families.

The hissing of her snakes was the first and only warning they had before she would appear, all arguments were forgotten as the curtains of her tent parted before their ebon skinned commander. She was as beautiful as she was deadly, and she was very beautiful. Immediately the soldiers fell to one knee before her in hopes of avoiding both her wrath and her snake headed whip. It fell upon the oldest of the unit, a grizzled veteran with more scars then hair on his body.

"My lady commander Ruehinda, all of our forces are mobilized but the city is still surrounded. What are your orders?"

She stared at him, her eyes scrutinizing every detail almost as if trying to peer into his very soul in search of some flaw or hidden deception. "Tell me bondsmen Elric, do you hear the howling?"

"Yes my lady commander. I believe it to be a large pack of wolves moving to support the orcs..." An instant to late he realized his mistake as the first of several snake headed whips lashed out at him. Somehow Elric found the will to stay standing as fiery venom coursed through his veins

"Never speak out of turn fool, let the venom remind you of it, the wolves are not here to support the orcs you senile old fool. They are merely spreading a message of some kind, it is of no importance so you will not waste what pitiful intelligence that you have been blessed with to discern the ways of the world. Remember that you are mine to spend s I see fit and let that be your one waking thought. Ready our forces, within an hour I want o be inside of that dirty hovel and out with the heir before I am forced to spend another hour riding one of your retched beasts. Well what are you standing here for, move you retched human."

Watching the retreating elf's back brought an almost uncontrollable urge to reach for one of his many daggers and cast it, fear of his own death did not bother him. It was the thought of his family's execution that stayed his hand once more. The pain from the venom was slowly lessening as he set of to fulfill the lady commander's wishes, knowing full well many of those under his command would never see their families again.

A different conversation was taking place on top of another hill, this one had far more bloodstains though. Quinn was slowly becoming crawling his way out of the depths of exhaustion and struggled to speak his first words after his very near death experience. "Mentor why are you naked again?"

"I don't know Quinn, and for some reason I feel cold, and hungry. I wonder why?" All of this was too much for Quinn who returned joyously to a blissful healing sleep.


	16. Return of an old friend

Somewhere I can belong

Chapter 16

Return of an old friend

Ramblings from Rohan: I know people are reading and it makes me glad. Please however if you have the time do leave a short review it can only make my story better, These chapters have been taking a lot out of me as I can not just get the action scenes to unfold the way that I picture them in my mind. I am open to any and all suggestions to improve them. Well once more I own nothing D & D related and here it is chapter 16…enjoy.

While Quinn was struggling for his life against Kreigon, hundreds of others joined one another in battle as they fought for not a dead patch of earth…but for their homes and their very lives.

Moving like a plague the warriors of the Gnarled Scar Clan sprinted towards the recently made gaping hole in the city walls. Each of their sword arms bore the mark of their god carved deep into their very flesh, as testament to their faith and their love of pain they would each rip open the wound before battles to remind them of their god's eye at the hands of the thrice cursed elf. Many of the prominent Eyes of Grumush hailed from their tribe and they had been given the honor of being the vanguard of the charge through the walls, and charge they did.

Lungs bursting from their roars, and fearing pain nor death they charged for they burst through the remnants of the wall. Their mad dash and zeal for the blood of their foes had caused the single clan to break apart into smaller groups. This alone saved the city of Aarons Mill as much as the defenders own battle skill.

Seeing no defenders rushing to confront them, one orc with blood still dripping form his carved tattoo began to laugh, and he did not stop till the second arrow poked a new hole in skull. Several more arrows flew through the air downing the rest of the first group, but by then a second group of Gnarled Scar Orcs were rushing though the rubble.

A hundred or so yard away another orc viewed the battle with the eyes not of a zealot but of a professional warrior. She could not help but admire the skill of the lone defender, even if it was an elf, "By Grumush's missing eye that elf is a woman none the less. Hah at least she's killing the dumb ones for us." Krona Widowmaker did not care for many of the males of her tribe but they had their uses, now their use was to kill the lone elf and from there to break the spirit of the defenders. Krona watched as the elf sprang upon a pile of orcs stabbing downward with her rapier, "Bah what a flimsy weapon, although it looks like it does wonders at removing opponents eyes." She added with a hint of approval.

She spied the elf doing something different now, she was waving her hands frantically and screaming, and then the ground exploded upward, and from it came a scream of rage that rivaled those who willingly gave up their eye to become one with Grumush. Krona watched awestruck as a mud beast clawed its way up from the ground and began to strike down the next wave of orcs at its mistress's command. Snapping out of her self imposed stupor she answered with a roar of her own bellowing out, "By Grumush's missing eye! She's a mage, hurry up and kill her before she summons more of those blasted mud things."

A chorus of voices rose up in answer, "Kill the elf, kill the elf." A thought came to Krona's mind as she joined in the chant and would not be dismissed. Many of her tribe would die in this place and for what she knew not the reason for her … only that she must go where her enemy dwelled no matter where that may be. Those were the last of her fleeting thoughts as she watched the rage take over her soldiers as they joined in the charge. Within moments they would reach the beast and the elf, and then they would see if the thing would bleed, and if it bled it could be killed. If not then they would bury it with their very bodies and send it back to the broken earth. Nothing else mattered.

Some things in life force you to stop and try to understand just what in the thrice blasted furnaces in Avernus caused it, and no matter how hard you try to decipher what has happened the best solution is to just shrug it off and accept it for what it is worth. Commander Gloin Ironbeard thought that he had seen it all. His home was being invaded by filthy thrice blasted, dung infested, stinking orcs. A gigantic swath of earth had risen up like a wave of water and completely obliterated a section of the wall. All of those things he could accept, but seeing a grinning elven bard he knew to well commanding a golem…that was just something that could not fathom.

"Uncle is that what I think it is."

""If it is nephew." Gloin began as the battle weary dwarf turned to address to second in command, when suddenly an orc thrown into the air by Elindil's pet golem landed at his feet. The dazed beast tried to rise up only to have half a dozen "dwarven arrows" collide into it. " Remind me to stop making fun of Elindil's chosen profession anymore." Gloin added as he pulled one of the balanced throwing hammers from the still twitching corpse, "Now move it blood of my blood before that blasted singing elf kill the rest of those thrice blasted spawn of that one eyed god and leaves none for us."

The roar from his clan was deafening as they all followed the example of their elder, they raised their axes and cried out to Moradin and the clan charged as one into the gaping chasm trampling over the mostly dead and blind orcs like an avalanche made flesh. They charged onward crashing through the leading orcs till their charge could carry them no further as they were no slugging it out with the Gnarled Scar Clan alongside Elindil and her summoned servant. The golem towered over the Ironbeards as it swung its deadly arm back and forth cleaving through whatever orcs were fool enough to fight it. For the moment the orcs backed off, their resolve faltered and they began to break before the dwarven onslaught…then the clerics arrived.

Prayers to Grumush were hurled out in the coarse language and the once fleeing orcs were turning to fight once more. As one the multitude of clerics laid blessing upon the embattled clan and before the dwarves startled eyes their hated enemies wounds began to close. Those were not the only spells cast, fouler magic was used and soon orcs that had been struck dead began to rise…no matter how grievous their wounds had been. Those that were able to wield weapons grabbed whatever their reanimated limbs could wield, and those that could not simply fell upon the dwarves using their very bodies as weapons.

"Uncle no one said anything about killing orcs twice." Yelled one of the younger dwarves as he struggled to dislodge his battle axe from its new home in an orcs head.

"Nephew if you done the job right the first time they wouldn't be getting up now would they." Gloin answered as his own axe slice off the top of another orcs skull.

"Aye uncle I'll do better from now on. "

"You do that lad its your duty."

Elsewhere the battle had turned against the defenders, the effects of the orcish clerics mass casting had affected all of their kind. From the central zocalo to wherever an orcish tunnel had broken the surface, the orcs surged outward with renewed strength. When one fell it merely rose up again embracing unlife to continue its rampage. Wherever clerics where the line was held by the defenders…but there were not enough clerics.

Clustered inside Clovis's Library, some distance from the gap wounded defenders of all the goodly races sought safety from the orcish onslaught. Only one had escaped harm, and he was frantically trying to preserve the fragile spark of life that was fading in a Halfling…all to no avail. For all his knowledge of lore and literature none of that would avail him now. He could hear the cries of his distant kin as they tried to break down the broad oak doors to slay those inside.

Frantic cries to gods across the entire pantheon were being chanted, while others prepared for their final battle, or hid their fear will gallows humor.

"I can't see Adrian, I need you to be my eyes." Moaned an elf, whose head was wrapped in bloody bandages, as he notched an arrow in ebony bow.

"Hadrain, you help me stand up when they get here, I ain't dying on my knees." Cried out a halfling grasping her shortspear as a crutch.

A pair of humans in battered leather armor provided the only sounds of laughter as they consoled a comrade, "We're not going to die here Inigo, we're to damn pretty to die here, and the gods don't allow pretty people to die."

"Oh I really regret not donating more to that traveling nun."

"She was trying to steal your purse."

"She was just trying to reform her wicked ways."

"She had a dagger to your jewels."

"Oh but she had the voice of an angel."

Clovis was only dimly aware of what they were saying, his mind was a thousands worlds away as he walked towards the small shrine of Denir that sat alongside the wall. It had been the first thing he had ever crafted, and around it he had built his library and his new way of life. It was a simple pedestal and open scroll carved from quarried marble. He had found a new life after he had created it, but now he needed something he had cast a way long ago. Something he thought he would never need again.

His calloused hands traced edges of it, for it was his most treasured item in all the realms, he had thought that it would out last him. Then with all the care in the world Clovis wrenched the shrine out form the marble floor. He felt his new life slipping away as he let the pedestal drop to the ground, as it shattered all Clovis could do was mutter out through tear gushing eyes, "I'm sorry." Then he fell ot his hands and knees, not in penance but in physical labor. His oversized hands ripped out the pieces of marble flooring and foundation stone, till at last his bleeding hands found what he had buried so long ago.

Clovis let loose a scream of rage as he rose and pulled out a grim reminder of his past, and for the first time in decades Clovis wielded his great axe. Through some miracle or joke, the long imprisonment had caused no harm to the immense weapon save to encase it in a fine layer of dirt. It was exactly as he remembered it, down to the cursed sigil of Grumush that was etched into the flat of the blade. For the second time the half orc fell to his knees again, thought this time it was in true penance. He was forsaking his words and there would be no way back from this. In his heart Clovis knew it was worth it…but that did not stop the tears from gushing out for the life he would be loosing in wielding this retched weapon. As the oversized tears fell upon his axe something altogether unexpected was happening, the tears raced over the blade and pooled over the engraved eye and began to burn it away.

Flakes of dirt and shards of metal fell away freely from it as the weapon began to glow and as the cracks of light raced over the mud-encrusted axe it began to hum. Clovis instantly recognized the sounds that he was hearing...it was the song of his God Denir, he was completely aghast as his mind could not believe what his ears were hearing and his eyes were showing him. What lay before him gleaming in silver light was not what he had buried nearly thirty years ago, an immaculate serrated half moon axe nearly three feet from point to point was mounted on a rot free shaft of dark ebony, over all of it were the words of Denir gently engraved with a skill that was beyond the abilities of the greatest mortal craftsmen.

With the slightest touch of his hands onto the ebony shaft Clovis's mind was flooded with information, it all came back to him rushing back to him so fast his mind felt as thought it would burst, the techniques, the feints, the counters, the knowledge of twenty years of warfare buried and pushed aside for so many years. For a moment he looked as though he was going to topple over and go crashing into the ground, but instantly he had steadied him and raised the crescent axe in his immense hands over his head and began to sing.

The look of shock was immense as they saw the local librarian whom many knew would never hurt a fly raising up a gigantic axe the like the which they had never seen before, but then they saw the enormous oversized grin that had always been present return followed by the most beautiful singing they had ever heard. They forgot their injuries, their fears, and every single one remembered with crystal clarity what it was they were fighting for. In that same instant the thick mahogany doors burst inward to reveal a snarling band of orcs, but before they were even a dozen paces into the library Clovis was upon them.

The silver blade came low and with all of the massive librarians strength behind it, and the first of the orcs was flung against the far side of the library…at lest the top half did. Somehow the strike had cloven the leading orc into two leaving the lower part of its body still standing. The sight of half of their war leader vanishing in front of them was to much more the dimwitted orcs as shock overwhelmed them, but there time was ill spent for Clovis was already spinning back towards them with another strike.

Many apologies for the delay, but all manner of things are working against me as I try to finish this story. Rest assured that I will. I have quite a few crazy ideas as to what will happen next and look forward to the return of Crystal, Brangar, Janet, and the wizard. Its been ages sicne I talked about them I wonder what they are up to?


	17. A Ghost of a chance

Somewhere I can Belong

Chapter 17

A ghost of a chance

Disclaimer, well here we are again and the story is winding down, look forward to revelations about the past of my favorite reclusive druid and the conclusion of the siege of the city. At most this little tale has at most three to four chapters left in it. After this story wraps up I'll be leaving this little corner of the world to do a little story in the Forgotten Realms called "From Coymr to Waterdeep and a bunch of Broken Harps". It's an idea that has been bouncing back and forth in my head for a while and it deals with my current favorite D&D class, the Scout. Well even though I own nothing related to D & D I hope that you enjoy this latest installment, now on with the story crafting.

Smoke from countless fires rose above the ruin that was the city Aarons Mill, its once proud wall had been ripped apart by divine wrath, and all manner of orcs and goblins were erupting from tunnels throughout the city. That was not the worst of it. Even though orcs and their allies were being struck down left and right by the beleaguered defenders, they would rise up again embracing unlife to fight again. This was not the first siege that city had endured but far to many began to believe it would be the last. Many choose not to die easily, and keep fighting no matter how grim the outlook was. They were the ones that kept a small ember of hope flaming this dark day.

She fought with every last ounce of her very being at her latest foe, so great was her wrath that when her blow struck the orcs metal collar it bulged inward the full with of the sword snapping vertebrae like a twig. She said no words of her thanks of her god, rather the paladin stood above her fallen foe and drove her greatsword through the orc again and again till its body was broken apart by its knees, wrists, elbows, and severed its head. "Try rising now you foul mistake of creation." Crystal had learned the lesson of not dismantling her kills earlier that night!"

Crystal had very nearly fallen to her knees after the last kill, but had driven her sword into the ground at the last moment to steady herself. Crystal stared at her handiwork and was disgusted and what she had done, the alleyway had become a charnel house of her own making, and she was truly disgusted with what she had done. "By Herionious this must be what Avernus is like." So lost in her exhaustion Crystal did not see one of her first kills, what had once been a gnoll, but now all that was left was a torso with one arm barely attached by broken sinew. Somehow it sensed the paladin and reached out with a rusty dirk to hamstring her. The blade was about to strike when the undead beast swelled to twice its size and then burst apart as though it was an exploding balloon..

"You missed one oh fearless leader." Gamgee muttered as he finished moving his elven hands in an intricate pattern.

"Well I was just leaving him for you Gamgee." She replied matter of factly, her eyes were nearly dead with exhaustion, and the ever present laughter was long gone.

Cocking his head and pointing at the remnants of the gnoll, "How did you know I was back here."

"Gamgee, " Crystal began, "Only two things breath louder than you do, and I don't see any giants or dragons around here."

"I do not breath loudly, why I am as silent as the wind."

"Didn't you ever wonder why we never let you go in first when we were trying to sneak around somewhere."

Realization struck the stunned wizard like a dwarven hammer, "Am I really that loud? I don't think that I'm that loud?"

"Gamgee, Quinn would change into a bear to sleep when you were in your trance."

"Oh I always thought it was because he was cold."

"We were in the tropics!" Crystal exclaimed waving her hands in the air.

"Well he could have been. Humans are strange, I'll never understand them."

"To my dying day I will never understand elves." Both elves turned to face the new arrival, one with drawn steel and the other with the first of a string of arcane words, only to cease in midaction as they recognized the monk, and the bloodstained mountain of muscle that she was carrying tossed over her shoulder as though he was no more that a sack of flour. "Now if either of you two are done prancing down memory lane I need help with this hulking brute that I've been carrying for the last two blocks before I just break him into smaller pieces to carry. The duo of quarreling elves ceased their argument as they rushed to the aid of their friends.

When Crystal first grasped the limp arm of her barbarian friend and saw the layers of blood and gore that covered him as though it were a second skin, she feared the worse. For a heart wrenching moment she feared him lost, then his massive chest lurched and in a raspy voice of an old man she heard, "Are we there yet, I'm hungry."

Instantly rage replaced loss as Crystal began to shake the head of the barbarian quite forcefully, "You over muscled ignorant savage, I thought you were dead, and all you were was hungry!" Her tirade was cut silenced by a swift backhand from Janet.

"That ignorant savage just spent the past hour tearing apart more orcs then all the glasses of ale that I have ever drunk, and I drink a lot." The calm emotionless face of the monk was gone replaced instead by a cold grimace.

Gamgee was not used to playing the peacemaker, but he was willing to learn quickly… even though he was more knowledgeable about how to blow things ups rather then preventing explosions. Jumping between the two Gamgee began, "Ladies please, lets not do the orcs job for them, help me get Brangar's jaw open, I have something that should help him." Crystal immediately forced her chain covered thumb into Brangar's oversized mouth and pried his jaw open.

"Now be careful Crystal, this potion, " Gamgee seemed at a loss for words, "Does not have the most pleasant of tastes."

"What will he bite my thumb off?"

"That is a distinct possibility."

"Just hurry up and pour the blasted thing down his throat and I'll worry about my thumb1"

"Fine, fine, just trying to be helpful." Gamgee only began to uncork the small sized potion when he was directly next to the hulking barbarian but even that brief exposure had suddenly caused everyone to be overcome with a fit of near gagging as the aroma began to drift through the air. The effect on Brangar was different to say the least. Lurching forward he let out a gut-curling scream and began to spasm back and forth before collapsing back to the ground. Then slowly one eyelid opened and then the other and ever so slowly he began o pull himself back up and began to yawn, "What a good nap I had, is there anything more to kill?"

"Don't worry my oversized friend I am sure that we will find trouble short enough friend, we always do."

"Oh good Gamgee I would hate to have gotten up for nothing."

"I hate to interrupt your little patting on the back session boys." The monk began as she arose from her meditative stance and wiped a particular large piece of orc brain off her bracers, " It looks like trouble has found us." Several buildings away a large pack of axe waving gnolls was yapping wildly in their undecipherable tongues, and soon hoarse cries in orcish were answering, and each of the four knew that there would be to many for them to handle. For all their petty bickering, for all their differences both real and imagined they were bound to one another by their friendship and one by one they gave voice to that belief.

Gamgee, with his spells nearly exhausted reached out his hand between the four of them and began, "I must say my dear friends, I can think of no one else I would rather have at my side at the end with then each of you."

Soon Crystal followed with her own chain mail gloved hand gently grasping Gamgee's, "I know that us meeting was not by chance, and I am glad for every moment we had." She paused for a moment then continued, "The good, the bad, and everything in between."

Next came Janet's bracer adorned arm and with an odd mix of childishness and solemness in her voice she added "I know that we are bound together and that in the next life we will all meet again."

Finally came Brangar's oversized maw of a hand, and with tears in his eyes he roared out, "You are my brother and sisters by blood and by deed. We all shall dine at the hall of my ancestors at the table of my god this night. Never would I allow anything to keep us apart, not in this world or in the next."

Their moment of serenity was lost as the charging gnolls began to close distance, and then scattered as many of them were trampled or thrown aside by the wild mad thrashing charge of a warhorse that none of them had seen in the past days. There was a sickening crunch as the last of surviving gnoll had its head shattered like a rotten pumpkin as Prancer's hooves descended upon those that had wanted to harm its friend, and with the threat now gone the warhorse gently trotted over to its paladin.

Crystal at first thought it was some kind of hallucination brought on by exhaustion, but this was Prancer, this was her warhorse and somehow it had found its way to her and Crystal could not be happier. Gamgee was the first to see it, there was a glint in her eye and soon she began to speak, "We're not going to die here, we still have fiends to slay and a friend to find. Lets no waste anymore time." That said Crystal pulled herself on top of the saddle, "We push through whatever rabble that is between us and anyone still fighting."

"Well who am I to argue with someone who works for a god." That said Gamgee cracked a smile and drew an immaculately crafted longsword, it seemed to be more of a work of art then a tool of killing.

Seeing Gamgee holding an actual weapon in his arms was enough to break the serenity of the moment as a dumbfounded expression came over her, "Gamgee do you even know how to use that?"

"Crystal I am an Elf, it is in our blood to be able to successfully wield a longsword even without years of training."

"I'll take that as a no."

"I did take the weapons training class at the academy, I can handle myself." Suddenly Gamgee felt a tremendous smash on his back that was wither a catapult or one of Brangar's 'playful' slaps on the back.

"Just remember little brother, the pointy end goes in."

"Of course I know that you over-muscled buffoon, now just give an orc and I will prove it to you. For the record I am over 50 years older then you. If anything you are my little brother"

"Elf tiny, and Gamgee brother. You are my little brother." The barbarian added with another tremendous smash to Gamgee's shoulder of such force that the blade nearly flew out of his grasp, and left him gasping for breath.

Seeing her friends condition Crystal could not help but smile. "Well Gamgee looks like you are about to get your wish." She raised her blade to point a group of orcs that were racing down the street towards them. "If you hurry Gamgee, I'll save some of them for you. " That said the warhorse reared up on its hind legs and Crystal yelled out, "Hi-ho Prancer and away."

"Does she have to do that every time she goes charging off into battle. " Soon Gamgee's thoughts were drowned out by his other companion's war cries, holding his blade aloft he yelled out his own and charged into the fray. Soon the first orc was upon and Gamgee was desperately blocking vicious blow after blow from an orc garbed in furs and wielding a double-headed axe.

The orc was using more power then finesse as it tried to chop of Gamgee's head as though it were a tree. They blows were rapid and attacking both sides as Gamgee had to grasp his longsword with both hands to keep it from flying out if his hand, but even then he could feel the blows vibrating through both arms. If Gamgee's blade had been forged by anyone other than Elven smiths, it would have shattered from the sheer force of the blows. Finally though Gamgee found an opening and made a desperate slash aiming to behead his races ancient enemy, but his strike resulted in only a shallow cut across the orcs cheek.

The blow had little effect on the orc as it screamed out, "Cut me with your puny blade little elf, Grumush will raise me up again to strike you down."

A rage like nothing Gamgee had ever felt built up inside of him and howling like Brangar Gamgee threw himself in a desperate lunge with his entire weight behind the blow. The orc was still laughing as the blade plunged through his hides and out his back, still the orc continued to laugh with three inches of elven steel sticking out of his back. Gamgee could only watch in horror as the orc raised its axe above its head for a massive downward chop, but then the rage that had till moments ago filled the orcs eyes faded away.

The axe fell from his hands landing somewhere behind his back, and the orc sank to its knees with a look of absolute shock on its face and a last forced utterance of, "Grumush?" The orc fell backwards dead sliding off Gamgee's sword with a sickening slurping sound. Not content to believe that the orc was dead, he readied his blade for another strike but waited as he felt something happening, something was happening with the weave, what it was he did not know. All he knew was that something important was happening, and staring at the still dead orc Gamgee had a pretty good idea. "They're not coming back, they're just regular orcs now. They die like regular orcs." Vaguely aware of what was going on around him Gamgee faintly heard the howling chorus of wolves.

With a roar Gamgee charged back into the fray slicing and stabbing at every orc he could reach. Soon the elf was letting out wild cries for every orc he slew, until the group of orcs was slain all about him. The sudden feeling of an arm on his shoulder caused him to twirl ready to stab…till he found himself staring right at Brangar's blood covered face.

"Don't worry little brother." Brangar began with a tooth filled grin as he pointed to smoke shrouded street, "There's more."

Leagues to the west of Aarons Mill a ceremony was reaching its zenith, the drow priestess had spent hours crafting an elaborate summoning taking place, a circle had been carved into the earth and at the center of it was a battered battle standard of a land far to the north. Ever so slowly a female drow immaculately dressed in gold and silken robes approached the standard. Her voice strained as it began to cast a spell in the language of her employers and not that of her native tongue. She felt the forces of the region changing and with a little grace from the spider queen she knew she could take credit for what was happening. She quickened her pace as the howls of wolves grew in number and volume.

Ruehinda threw back her and cried out to the heavens, "I call forth the slave soldiers of Aran to fulfill their oaths, I call you to this place to serve the blood of your captives or to have your descendents slaughtered to the youngest babe. For a moment nothing happened, but then a tremendous explosion of light blossomed outward form the standard. The priestess stifled a curse as the light scoured her eyes, " I call upon you to fulfill your oaths or those you love will suffer torment greater than any you can imagine. She grasped the standard with both hands and raised it above her head and continued her screams, " Come forth oh legion of Aran and serve your master now, or know that the last remnants of your people will be so destroyed that their souls will never know peace!"

The air around them wavered for a moments as though a haze was forming, they first appeared almost as though they were a mist, but slowly they began to become more defined. In contrast to the summoning blast of light the summoned force appeared as men but as wretched things of shadow and mist, Ruehinda felt the energy wash over her and instantly knew from where those who answered her call came from…the astral plane itself. She stared as their ever-morphing forms became more defined to show beasts with two heads and 4 legs withering in agony.

How in Loth's name was she to use these misshapen beasts. She had been promised soldiers that would match the best of the Underdark, not these wretched beasts. Ruehinda involuntary stepped back and clutched the standard to her chest, it might be the only thing that could control those that had answered her call.

Before the drow's frenzied eyes the shapes began to change from those of misshapen beasts to resemble humans mounted on cavalry. She stared dumbfounded at the number of forces that were now hers to command, here was a force that was the size of any of the matriarchs of her city could command….but they were not drow and as such they were meant only to die for her ambition

The newly formed army cast their gaze upon the ring of soldiers encircling the standard holder, each soldier thought to themselves the same thought. Are those my children grown to age, are they my grandchildren, or does the line of my descendents even continue in this world.

From the slowly organizing mass of men and horses one emerged to approach the rune encircled hill. As he walked past the other soldiers they would bow, or clash their weapons against their chests. It was easy to see that this was the commander of the captive legion. He was encased in a shimmering coat of scales that could only have been made of mithril, with a blood red scarlet cloak trailing behind him. He walked towards the ring but upon reaching it, the runes flared an eerie light and the commander was sent flying through the air to collide into the earth a dozen feet away.

Seeing the effect of the circle and knowing that she was secure from any retaliation she howled out her orders. "You are to subdue all forces besieging the city below and bring for the heir of the House of Aran out from it and to me."

The commander rose from the ground and politely bowed and replied, "I hear and I obey." He swiftly turned and marched back down to the now organized contingents of cavalry, where another soldier raced to meet him. This one was not encased in thick armor but instead was garbed in leather armor that gave a minimum of protection but a maximum of mobility, and was garbed in an emerald cloak.

"Well, Commander what does that underground dwelling spider loving witch want us to do?"

"Drop the rank Errol, you're just lucky I didn't make you go up there and play commander this time." He replied with a harsh tone.

"If you remember correctly Flynn, I got thrown through the air the lat time, and in cas e you haven't noticed I don't wear as much iron around my head as you do." He replied jovially.

"For the last time, its mithril, not iron."

"Mithril, iron, as long as it slows you down it is the same thing."

"Oh for crying out loud brother do we have to do this every time we are getting ready to deploy."

Looking amongst his scarlet-cloaked troopers his eyes locked with one in particular who was fumbling with a crystal globe and began nodding. "Well not as long as usual since it seems our jailers are getting careless."

"I am outraged dear brother, that they do not have a large hostile heavily armed and armored force not under constant scrying like they used too. I mean what is to stop us from taking the heir and forcing him to release us from our bonds and then riding a bloody swarth of justice through the thrice cursed lands of Aran."

"Well don't be to outraged and get careless brother, I want you to take your riders round the southern side of the city and draw their attention while my group rides straight through them."

"Consider it done brother." As he turned to leave, he stopped for a moment and turned to face his brother again, "Its been a longtime coming hasn't it."

"Freedom always is."

"Well you better ride fast in hopes of finding some arcs that my arrows haven't killed"

Flynn suddenly said with drop dead seriousness, "Captain, I don't want a repeat of what happened at Hilden's Ford."

"Commander for all we know that could have been centuries ago, and it was an accident."

"Accident I may be, but my backside hurts everyday, and twice as much as when its cold."

"If I was aiming for you I would have made sure to go through your backside and pin you to your saddle and not just glance off of it."

"It didn't glance off it went in went in three inches."

"I don't know why you make so much trouble from such a small flesh wound. I'll try to work on my aim dear brother but you know with all that armor you make such a big target." And before his brother could make a reply Errol had already vanished into the midst of the assembled mass.

Flynn began to chuckle, "He always gets the last word. Gods you haven't heard any of my prayers in all the years we have been away, but I beg of you to bring us through this battle." His short prayer ended he rejoined his men as they rode out to what they all hoped would be the end of their servitude.

Whew, another chapter done an things are all winding down. I apologize for the lengthy wait between chapters. My life as always has been insane. Well the others chapters are in the making and hopefully will be done with in just a few short weeks. Until then, enjoy the story and please review, pretty please.


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